


Threat or Prayer

by lucca



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon Compliant, F/M, Gen, Memory Loss, Mild Language, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, References to Depression, Science
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2019-10-22 16:27:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17666042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucca/pseuds/lucca
Summary: How Carmen Sandiego got from a boat in the Canary Islands to a train in Poitiers (there were a surprising number of bad donuts and good friends involved).





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends!
> 
> This is the first installment of my take on a pre-series Carmen Sandiego story that covers the aftermath of her escape from VILE through the first episode in Poitiers. It's starts with a little bit of backstory, because it's import for later, but please don't give up- Carmen is in here, I promise! 
> 
> There are more detailed notes at the end, to highlight a couple of items/issues I didn't get to address in-line.

 

_Location Unknown_

_Late 1999_

 

The door of the small apartment opened silently, granting a thin strip of light from the hallway into the otherwise dark room.  The man in the entryway shut the door just as soundlessly as it opened, but made no other movement despite the lack of light.

“It is very rude to come into another’s home alone and uninvited, Gunnar. Perhaps you ought to add an etiquette class to your school.”

“Good evening, Shadowsan.” Gunnar Maelstrom grinned. He knew better than to expect that he would catch the legendary ninja off guard, but even all these years later, he couldn’t resist trying.  A bit of self-analysis for another time, he supposed. “Do pardon my effrontery. I have an important matter to discuss with you and it was _very_ unpleasant outside.”    

“Would you care for tea?” Shadowsan gestured to the small kitchen as he removed his shoes and coat.  It was a rarity that either man had much time or desire for social visits, and this was no exception. 

“No, thank you. Regrettably, I can’t stay long.”  Shadownsan did not seem disappointed, although Professor Maelstrom wasn’t sure if the stately man ever _seemed_ anything unless it suited him. “The Faculty Board was very impressed with your recent work in Moscow. Five billion dollars of IMF loans in and out of the Central Bank of Russia without so much as a blink of alarm.”

“I did as I said I would.” Shawdownsan nodded in acknowledgement, but was not much concerned with the faculty’s opinions, positive or otherwise.  “I do not believe you would have traveled all this way to deliver unneeded and unwanted appreciation.”

Professor Maelstrom grinned again.  

“Professor Case has just been elected Board Chair. Privately, he has told me he intends to retire at the end of his term. I wanted to ask if you would consent to be a candidate for his prospective replacement.”

Shadownsan tilted his head slightly- not in surprise, but consideration. “Justin’s retirement is well-deserved, but I have no desire to be a member of the faculty. My life suits me well.”

There was a moment’s pause.

“I understand your hesitation.  Do take some time to think it over.  We’ve recently remodeled the faculty housing, and it’s quite lovely.” Professor Maelstrom stood and deliberately admired the wall decorations, before pausing at the set of red _matryoshka_ dolls on a shelf and giving Shadowsan a pointed look, “I see Tsu Mi is still collecting souvenirs from her journeys. I believe she would enjoy the island life. The baby is due in a few months, no?”

 _Ssn-cik._ He didn’t see the ninja move, but Gunnar found himself staring down the length of a sword all the same.

“ _Do not threaten me in my own home.”_ Shadowsan’s voice was dark and fierce. Leave while you are still able, old friend.”

Gunnar held up his hands in surrender.  “Not a threat, _old friend_.  Just an offer for what you are trying to find here but never will: a peaceful life.  VILE is growing, and I worry in the wrong direction. Without Justin’s vision, the current ranks will think too small, too short term, and I will find myself outnumbered. Between the two of us, we can reshape the board. The world is not getting any calmer, nor we any younger. Bring your family to the academy, live in peace, and help me keep our organization our own.”         

“ _Leave.”_

Gunnar nodded and turned to the door, determined not to show his reaction until he was well out.  He didn’t expect a positive response today, but he didn’t exactly get a ‘no’ either, and that was a place to start.

“By the way, it was the truth earlier; your help in creating the Ruble Crisis did not go unnoticed.  We’ll need you in Argentina soon to do it again. _Fernando de la Rúa_ has just been elected President on a promise to end state corruption.  We need him out of office, publicly. I’ll send you the details.”

Shadowsan did not reply.

“And the etiquette class is a wonderful suggestion.”

 

* * *

 

_Villa Celina, Greater Buenos Aires, Argentina_

_December 19, 2001_

 

It was going to be his last operation in the field.  

 _It was going to be their last operation in the field_.   

He was less than 24 hours from moving his wife and daughter to a tropical paradise.  He didn’t relish the idea of being a teacher, but he’s met some of the recent recruits and found Gunnar’s assessment of them correct.  VILE didn’t have an academy when he and Tsu Mi had been selected- back then decent thieves had to learn by doing and accept the consequences- but it wouldn’t be the worst thing to instill some patience and discipline in the upcoming set.

The riots in the heart of Buenos Aires had spread farther than he’d calculated _._ They been staying in Villa Celina for the past year and half, somewhere between the outskirts of the city proper and the airport. _His fault._ He’d spent all of yesterday near the Plaza del Mayo, stirring up agitators, leaving Tsu Mi with Noriko to pack up their meager belongings once the president resigned.  

She had been furious with what she saw as being sidelined, but agree to wait to go the market until after the riots calmed.  

 _“I planted bribes on five senators while nursing an infant, Kioshi. This is nothing.”_ she argued _,_ “ _And besides, I haven’t gone souvenir shopping in a long time now. Noriko loves those matryoshka so much; don’t you want her to have something else to play with?’_

That had been their tradition, since the early days.  As a couple of pickpockets who made their way back and forth across the county, Tsu Mi loved looking for a token of each city or stop, and would always grab something attractive before they left for the next mark. They had to travel light, but for two teenagers without families to notice when they left or expect gifts when they returned, it had been a tradition of their own. That is, until Justin Case found them on a wintry day in Sapporo and they moved up to the worldwide stage. Perhaps he should have just refused back then?

The restlessness in their part of the city hadn’t been violent, but Shadowsan was closely watching the news.  He expected confirmation of what his spies had already told him- Fernando de la Rúa intended to resign imminently. _They could leave_.

“What the hell is going on over there!?”  A loud boom and Tsu Mi’s shout tore his attention away from the television.  She was already pulling on her shoes. “The grocery store across the street just had it’s windows broken. Someone set a fire.”

“What are you doing? This is what we _want_ to happen.”

Tsu Mi gave him a _look_ that he knew better than argue with as she hushes a wailing Noriko. “I’m more concerned with large, squirming duffel bag someone just dumped in front of it.  If that asshole is trying to set his rats lose in the neighborhood again, I _will_ kill them this time.”   

“I’ll check it out.” He sighed and tucked a knife into his shoes. “ _Stay here.”_ It was only a block down the street, but the fire wasn’t large and mostly appeared to have been where some kind of homemade explosive was used to take out the window.  Looters were already scavenging the aisles, and Shadowsan could see Senior Facundo, the owner, frantically try to chase them away. He paid this little mind- the man had spent the better part of the year chasing rats from his store across the street into his apartment, after all- and looked at the bag no one else seemed keen to approach.

His knife was ready as he yanked on the zipper, prepared to make a quick end to the little beasts.

Small gray eyes stared back at him.

 _A baby._   _A_ human _baby._ Thrown away like _garbage._ She is smaller than Noriko- maybe a year and a half old.

Shadownsan is not a sentimental man. He has taken lives and thought little of it.  He has wrought havoc on hundreds of thousands of unsuspecting people and he sleeps well at night.  

But he has never thrown away a baby, and for one extraordinary moment, he was suddenly thankful that there is at least this one line he did not, will not, cross.   

 _hwirk-BOOM._ The brick and stucco around him rattle, and the air grew even heavier with more smoke.  There was too much heat behind him.

He wrapped the tiny thing in half of his coat, running back toward the apartment while the sounds of a screaming mix with discrete bits of knowledge.  He burst into the small living space and immediately retches. There are three bodies on the floor, and they are all beyond saving.

 

_There is the smell of gas._

_The building now so much smaller than it had been, minutes ago._

_Looters and protesters, running away down the street._

_The cracked-through door to the back of the apartment wrenches open, and two young men run out._

 

The first doesn’t make it four steps before he falls into the street. The second backs up fearfully as Shadowsan approaches, the knife in his hand dripping profusely with his accomplices blood.

 _“What have you done?_ ”

“My- my niece...she was starving. I tried to hide her and get her some milk from the store, but- the people- it was too many, and I couldn’t...there-there wasn’t any.”  He’s weeping now, gesturing madly to the burnt-out store window, and then to the flames behind him. “I thought I could rob the lady, but she was quick- _scary_ , she killed Pedro, and then the little girl started crying- and- I tried to take out another bomb to scare them. Just to scare! But she kicked it away, and it hit the stove, and-” He’s choking on tears now, trying to reach for the baby. There is a crowd gathering outside and Shadowsan has no time to execute him in the way he’d prefer. “Please, please don’t hurt her.”  The knife sinks into into the man’s throat and back out, quick and quiet, as though stealth was of any concern any longer. The last thing he hears is Shadowsan’s voice.

“You deserve worse than your fate.  But she will get the consideration you did not give, and will be safe with me. You have my word.”

There is no one and nothing to save inside. Nothing he wants to keep. _Leave no witnesses._ The room is still heavy with smoke and gas; it burns hot and quick once he strikes another spark.  The _thing_ in his arms is coughing and restless.  She needs to go outside, and Shadowsan is not entirely certain he would have left the burning building at all if he had not been holding her.  He grabs the soot covered bag by the door- the one Tsu Mi had packed for Noriko- and manages to force himself out.

He cannot change his fate now, but he can at least make sure that the next generation of thieves grow up more respectable than _this_.

 

* * *

 

_North Atlantic Ocean_

_December 20, 2001_

 

“ _de la Rúa_ has signed his resignation and fled the building by helicopter. It’s over.”

He glances at the tiny, squirming _thing_ on his arm, looking back at him with sleepy eyes.  He wonders if she might start to cry. He wonders what he would do if she did.  

Everything was over.  

He closed his eyes and does not open them until they land in Las Palmas. The boat ride from there to VILE island is a lengthy one and the boat captain mostly ignores them both. Professor Maelstrom is waiting for him at the dock, eyebrow raised at his solo arrival. Shadowsan does not explain. He does not feel anything, anymore. Instead, he holds up the tiny, squirming _thing_.

“You were prepared to accommodate Noriko. I have brought this one instead.”

Gunnar Maelstrom stands with mouth agape. Until this moment, he could count the number of times in his life when he’s been speechless on one hand.  From now on he will have to use two, and he will never forgive Shadowsan for it.

“Also, I insist that we add self-defense to the curriculum _immediately_.”

“I don’t understand. Who is this?”

 

* * *

 

_North Atlantic Ocean_

_December 1, 2017_

 

“It’s Carmen. Carmen Sandiego.”  

She’s never felt so _empowered_ before.  This is like a drug, some kind high that’s making her practically giddy. “About that white hat thing- does it have to be white?”

She _laughs_ and it’s been months since she felt this good.  It’s careless of her, true, but the _freedom_ is incredible.

“Ok, _Carmen_. Welcome to team White Hat.  When’s your birthday?”

Good question.  As Black Sheep, she’d never really had or celebrated a birthday, just a vague awareness that each year she got older.  She’d had planned to start celebrating one after graduating, but-

Well, that didn’t work out like she’d hoped.

But still, if Carmen Sandiego indeed starting existing today, then it only made sense to roll with it. “December first.“  

“Today’s your birthday? Wow. You really know how to party, Carmen.” Player sound a little confused, and she suddenly feels a little uneasy.  Picking an identity was the first thing she’s ever done for herself- did she screw up already?

“It it weird?” Carmen had to know.

“That on your birthday you’re fleeing a secret crime school in the middle of the night for the second time after being raised alone on island and stealing a criminal empire’s yearly accounting? I mean, yeah. You know I’m not an expert on normal, but it’s pretty weird. Cool, though.”

“No!” Carmen hedged. She had an inkling all of that was weird already. The others- Gray at least- would sometimes pause and give her a comforting sort of delighted smile when she said something particularly off-key that showcased the limits of her education, even as she cringingly tried to hide her upbringing.  “I mean the name. Are-” she winced, “are people still named Carmen?”

There was the sound a cough that Carmen thought was probably a hidden laugh, then of clacking keys and Player responded quickly. “Oh, you bet. Loads of people. Singers, and actresses and stuff like that. Um, a few who used it in porn, but that’s like, practically everyone’s name anymore.”

She has no idea what that meant or why she should would worry about it, but sounded fair enough.  “Sure,” Carmen agreed with false confidence, “Who hasn’t seen their name in porn once in awhile?”

This time there was no mistaking the laughter, but it was warm and happy, and Carmen didn’t mind that it was at her expense.    

“Oh, my God.” Player wheezed, “Please don’t go around saying that. I’m gonna start keeping a list of things to explain to you later.”    

“Thanks, Player.”

“No sweat. Trust me, I’m probably only gonna use it to make fun of you a _lot.”_ Carmen smiled at the teasing.  She’d only really ever had friends in the last year and change (or at least she _thought_ she did, until the attempt-murder-and-drag-your-unconscious-self-back-to-where-you-were-fleeing-from part), but Player had been around the longest, and it was nice to count on him now.

“No, I mean, thanks for everything. For listening to me, and helping me, and telling me where in the world I even _am.”_

“Speaking of which, how about we get you somewhere to stay? It’s the rainy season there right? You have to be soaked. Where to?”   

Carmen looked up nervously at the cloud cover. She worried more about being followed in the chopper than being cold and wet, but she’d take what she could get. “That would be nice. What’s the farthest place I can get away from here?”

More typing. “In terms of places crowded enough to lay low? Probably Australia. Brisbane. Maybe Sydney. You wanted to go _down under,_ right?”

 **“** _Not Sydney.”_ The response was immediate, and spilled desperately out of her mouth before she could stop it. But it was true. No way she wanted to think about-

“No problem, no problem. How would you feel about Auckland?”

“Better.”

“Ok.  Due south to Tenerife, and we’ll get you on board a flight.  I can get into a few files for now, but if you’re going to do more island hopping we should think about how to get you a real passport.”

 

* * *

 

_Auckland, New Zealand_

_January 2018_

 

 _It’s warm_ , Carmen keeps having to remind herself. _It’s summer and it’s warm._

She’s been sitting in the sun for an hour, finally driven out of the tiny abandoned room she’s been squatting in by the need to find a place to charge her phone.  

It’s eighty degrees outside, yet she can’t shake the bone-deep cold that seems to cover her these days.  Player was furious every time she let the battery die, but it was getting harder and harder to find the energy to sneak out.  Her newfound awareness for consequence, coupled with the abiding fear that the cleaners would walk up on her at any moment was crushing.

Getting by day to day was both more challenging than she expected and far duller.  It had seemed like it would be easy, when she was stopped by a disbelieving Gray the first time she tried to escape. She had all the skills, and more, to get by. It some ways it was easy, _too_ easy, and what lay down that path terrified her.  

If she stole some cash, a wallet, an order of food from a restaurant, she’d be in an out and no one the wiser.  She doesn't have to think about who might be going without, who's life or future she made worse with her work. She’s done it before, and she’ll probably do it this very afternoon, as soon as she’s checked in with Player and gotten her weekly dress-down for not calling him.  Carmen knows her skills are beyond these things, even if they are necessary. She could do more, she _aches_ to do more.  

But she doesn’t know how _much_ more and that scared her every time she makes another lift;  she’s been trained to hurt, to kill, to leave no trace without really accepting it.  Or maybe she had, but so firmly assumed she never would that it didn’t bother her.

She’s bothered now. A near constant litany of questions and what-ifs circle in her head. _What if your next mark fights back? Would you hurt them? Kill them?  What if Boris catches you mid-theft, and kills you and your target? Would you kill him first, to protect yourself? To protect someone else?  What if it’s not Boris? What if it’s Gray?_

Gray.

Had this been what has worried him, as he fiercely told to stay put in Morocco? Had he already seen this wasn’t in her, that she couldn’t do any better than she’s doing right now?

 _You’re still just a kid,_ he’d said. _You have no money, no connections…_

Carmen took a deep breath and checked her battery, _50%._ She would be here for awhile yet. Maybe she’d skip stealing dinner tonight and just go back and sleep.  She was pretty sure she’d eaten yesterday.

Gray was right.  She had no idea what she was doing.  

But the idea of staying a year, a week, a _minute_ longer than necessary at VILE Academy had been every bit as hopeless.  She passed Diabolical Masterminding with a perfect score, but in all her planning, it had not occurred to her for a second that Gray would be anything other than a staunch ally in her escape attempt.  

That he had actively delayed her, tried to kill someone, and then helped bring her back to that place? And wasn’t even a _little_ sorry?

 

It broke Carmen’s heart.

 

* * *

 

_VILE Academy, Isle of Vile_

_October 2017_

 

It shouldn’t have surprised her to see him.  

Black Sheep knew it was always a possibility, that former students ( _operatives, he’s graduated now)_ returned on occasion when they needed new assignments, or had important information to debrief that couldn’t be sent online.

She even knew he was on campus, because she’d heard a couple of her classmates tittering loudly over a demonstration he’d given in a group in Dr. Bellum’s class that morning.

 _It shouldn’t have surprised her to see him._ But somehow, it was an unerring blow to the chest.

He was standing with Shadowsan, of all people, talking in a low voice.  She immediately spun around and walked the way she’d just come, knowing she’d catch hell for skipping this class but, really, what could the faculty do that would hurt more than seeing him, anyway?

Gray called out, and then fell into step beside her, oblivious to- or more likely just ignoring- her clear effort to avoid him.

“Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you all day.  Have you had lunch yet? I have a hil _arious_ story about Tigress you have to hear. She made me swear never to tell, but I-”  Black Sheep did not react and continued walking back to her room. Gray’s shoulders heaved with a heavy sigh at her silence. “Ok, I get it. You’re still angry at me.”

 _Angry?_ Anger wasn’t even close.  She didn’t have a word for how she felt, but _anger_ was only a small part of the churning mix of hurt, confusion, and betrayal.

“I did what I had to do. I will always do that to protect you.  I kept you _safe._ And even if it means you’ll never speak to me again, I don’t regret it. _”_ A snort of disbelief escaped her before she could stop it, and with her stoic silence ruined, Black Sheep stopped walking to face him.  

“What do want me to say, Gray?” He smiled warmly at finally getting a response from her and the expression, as it always had, cut through her with ease.  Except this time it brought no burst of affection, no excited rush of blood to her head that made her feel like she could do anything. Now it crippled, scorched through her chest and left ash its wake.

“I want to know what the hell is going on with _you_ , for a start.”

Black Sheep saw red. How _dare_ he judge her.  How _dare_ he act like he had no part in it. _This man had been her best friend.  How dare he act like it wasn’t taking everything she had just to make it day to day._  She couldn’t breathe, and Gray continued.

“Shadowsan told me that you don’t make friends, don’t speak to anyone. You pick fights in Coach Brunt’s class and turn down people who ask for your help in Stealth. Black Sheep, what are you doing? This isn’t _you!”_

Her chest was shaking harder with each word, tears and fury choking her throat. She _refused_ to cry. Not in front any of her classmates, who were still running to class in the halls, and definitely not in front of Shadowsan, who Black Sheep knew was watching, probably waiting to mark her absent. _More than anything_ , not in front of Gray, who was watching her face with soft eyes as he reached to put a hand on her shoulder.  

“You’re the _best thief in the world_. All you have to do is keep it together for a little longer than you thought. You can do that, right? You’re going to graduate in a couple of months!”

For the first time in her life, Black Sheep _wanted_ to hurt someone. She _wanted_ Gray to hurt the way she had, when he’d stood by and done _nothing_ while she was knocked out and dragged back to this hellhole.  The way she had when she’d woken up, alone and back to square one, wondering if they’d ever even been friends in the first place.  The way she did right now, when he looked at her like she made him happy, like everything was the same as it was last year and everything that had happened was _nothing._ When had he become so callous?

“Graduate into what?” She hissed. “A murderer?”  

Gray flinched. She seized the opening.

“How many people have you _killed_ now, _Crackle_? Do you even keep track of the lives you take, or is it just so much dust to you?”

The hand dropped from her shoulder into a clenched fist, and Gray’s face, which had been so imploring until now, became stony.    

“I don't have any regrets.” he repeated quietly. “I’d do it again. Hate me if you want, but at least you’re here and not starving to death in the middle of God-knows-where. It was worth it, to me.”

Black Sheep isn’t sure what she can possibly say to that, as _here_ is the last place on earth she wants to be. She was spared having to figure it out, though, when the two students who were gossiping about Crackle’s guest appearance in Gadgetry & Tech earlier approached them.

“Black Sheep! There you are! What are you up to?”  They don’t have code names yet, and Black Sheep hasn’t cared enough to learn anyone else’s name anyway.  She huffed, eyes rolling. It had been like this even when Gray was a student; the smile and the hair garnered him plenty of fans, even in their small class of forty. Black Sheep had developed a certain level of skill at deftly extricating herself from conversations with his admirers without saying much, but she had a _very_ low tolerance for that kind of idiocy these days.  

“Oh!” Groupie #2 pretended to only now realize that Gray is also there. “We were in your class this morning; it was _wonderful_. Black Sheep, I didn’t realize that you were friends with Crackle!”

 

Silence.

 

“No.” She finally replied loftily, as she stared him down. “I don’t know him at all.” 

She spun on her toe once again, well aware that the only thing back in the direction she’s currently going is Shadowsan’s class, but too embarrassed to turn back now. She can’t imagine she’s on top of her game, but Shadowsan doesn’t _seem_ to notice her sneak into the back of the room eight minutes late.

 

* * *

 

_Auckland, New Zealand_

_March 2018_

 

_Fully charged._

 

_Buzzbuzzbuzz...buzzbuzzbuzz_

 

_[Carmen. Call me.]_

_Message deleted._

_[Caaaaaarmen.]_

_Message deleted._

_[Carmen!]_

_[I can tell your phone is back on.]_

_[I know you are reading these and deleting them.]_

_Message deleted._

_Message deleted._

_[ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ]_

_[¯\\(°_o)/¯]_

_Message deleted._

_[I will keep texting all the cutesy faces you hate until you answer.]_

_[ಥ_ಥ]_

_[≧☉_☉≦]_

_[( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ )]_

_[Carmen, don’t make me start on memes. I s2g I will. I can send faster than you can delete.]_

 

Thirteen variations on a man in a red coat holding up a hand to disagree and agree with various statements of fact later, Carmen finally caved.

“Hey Player.”

“I haven’t talked to you in forever!” Player exploded. “ _Don’t ever do that again!_ ”  

Like she didn’t do it all the time. This last stretch was probably the longest, though Carmen didn’t really see the difference between calling every week and ten days or so.   “Didn’t mean to make you worry. But I’m perfectly capable of managing on my own. I haven’t needed a nanny in years.”

_You’re still just a kid. You have no money, no connections…_

“It’s cool. I know you’ve got stuff going on.” She didn’t, and they both knew it. Player took a loud slurp of soda. “I’ve been doing some digging on our next move. I think I’ve got a good bead on getting you a permanent passport, but I’ve reached out to tons of different law enforcement, and to no one’s surprise, a random kid in Canada reporting a major secret criminal organization database that can’t be accessed does not get taken super seriously.”

This was exactly what she didn’t want to happen. Why she had refused to let him talk about any but the most basic details about his life, include his real name.  “Player, you need to stop. I really don’t want you involved in this.”

“Too late, fellow White Hat. We’re in this together now. Besides, this is the _coolest_ thing I’ve ever done.”

“I mean it, Player, the people that come from my school are dangerous.   _I_ ’ve been trained for years, and even I’m not sure I could beat them.  If someone tried to go after you-”

“They won’t.  I don’t know if you remember, but _I_ hacked _them,_ not the other way 'round.”

Carmen sighed. They’d had this argument at least a dozen times.  She should just dump the phone and steal a new one, but...

“I think you need to get rid of the hard drive, though.”

“ _What?”_ This was new. Player hadn’t asked much about it, once she sent a few photos and confirmed that it there was no make or model information that would be useful.  She’d mostly taken it in an effort to delay any ongoing operations that needed financing, but it was still a point of pride that she _had_ it.

“Look, I can wipe your phone location and keep our communication off the grid, no problem. I know _nothing_ about that hard drive. It’s got no ports, no way I can tap it or hide it from here. Even if we got it to Interpol, if they could even read it, there’s no way to prove that it is what we say it is.”

He was right, Carmen knew it.  Part of the reason she didn’t eat or sleep in the same place twice was because she was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop- for someone to come after the drive, after her, and that would be the end of it.  But still, she kept it in her bag at all times, afraid of leaving it to be stolen. It was her last bit of leverage.

“What did you have in mind?” Carmen asked. “I could smash it, or throw it in the harbor. I don’t exactly have a lot of high-tech options.”

“I was _hoping_ you would ask that.” Player replied, amused. “I have two plans.  Option 1 is that we ransom the drive back to VILE. It’s risky to meet them, but if they pay up it could set you up with a new life and everyone walks away happy.”

“I can’t just knowingly put VILE back in business, Player.”  She could _hear_ him grin, even through the phone.  The little twerp was clearly setting her up for something.

“What exactly are you doing now, Carm?” She was sitting at a cafe in Viaduct Basin, dreaming of being a stowaway on one the yachts set to sail around the world. But somehow, she knew that’s not what Player meant.

“I can’t go back, Player. I _can’t_ . I know I’m just running away, but at least I’m not _helping_ anymore _._ ”  She’s in better shape than she was two months ago, but she’s not exactly doing _great._  It was a little easier now that she'd dropped the full on White Hat approach, and gone back to her main skill set- stealth and sleight of hand.  It didn’t take much effort to find someone that won’t give her an attack of conscience- a rude restaurant patron, someone shouting insults at another on the street.  They are all fair game for her own version of sin tax.

“I get it. I mean- I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything, Carmen.” She forgets how young he is sometimes, and just as isolated as she is. “What I meant was, what if instead of just trying to keep the information away from VILE, we focus on getting it to the right person?”

“Who did you have in mind?”

“ _Me_.”

“Absolutely not.” Carmen is just about to hang up the call- she’s been here for two hours already, and it’s time to move on anyhow- when Player’s voice comes back, quick and desperate.

“Hear me out!  I can work on cracking the drive securely. I can check it for trackers, and download whatever is on it.  Once I find evidence of an _actual_ crime, you can call in a tip to that location and get law enforcement to see something specific.”

It wasn’t a bad plan, except for the fact that it still put Player in too much danger.

“Just one problem.” Carmen pointed out.  “What will you do if they _can_ track it? I could put your whole family in danger by bringing it there!”

“I really don’t think that’s the case.  For one thing, from what you’ve described, keeping that thing offline was a huge priority. It’d be crazy to compromise that by adding a GPS tracker.  For another, you’re the best there is and if you haven’t seen anyone follow you in three months, then they’re not there.”

“When VILE puts bullet through your head I’ll be sure to explain to your mom that you _didn’t think that was the case._ ”   

“ _Car_ men.”  She knew that Player felt her comment was over the line, but she didn’t regret it.  This wasn’t a game, and whether Player knew or not, Carmen was fully aware of the consequences. On the other end, Player pleaded.  “Let me do this. I can help. I know you’ve been struggling. I know you’re scared. I can’t- I can’t fix that. But I can least try to make it a little better.”

 

_You’re still just a kid. You have no money, no connections…_

 

Gray had been _wrong_.  She wasn’t a just a regular kid. Not by anyone’s estimation, not anymore.

But more importantly, she wasn’t alone.  She had been, and she’d survived it, but it was time to do what she’s set out to do- _see the world_.

“Doesn’t exploiting that kind of information go against the White Hat code?”

Player let out a deep breathe, but this time it was with an easy laugh: relief. “Yeah, I think I’m way past the White Hat thing. This is new territory for both of us.”

Carmen smiled. “Maybe we’re Red Hats now.”

“Red Hat is already a-”

“Player, just go with it. We’re having a nice moment here.”

“Anything you say, Red.”

 

[[◕‿◕✿)]

[You're kicking ass, Red.] 

[Stop sending me those stupid faces.]

[and thanks.]

 

* * *

 

_Casablanca, Morocco_

_May 31, 2018_

 

“I just want to go on record as saying this is both a waste of time and a terrible idea. I know you’re still gonna do it, but you shouldn’t.”

Carmen tilted her red hat to the the side of her face, partly because it kept slipping there anyway, and partly to get a better look at the late-night sky for any signs of a helicopter. She’d have to get a better one soon; her hair was getting longer now, and it wouldn’t sit properly no matter how she fussed with it. “We agreed to disagree on this, Player.”

“If checking the hard drive for trackers is too dangerous for me, I don’t see how waving it around in VILE’s face is less dangerous for you.”

“This is just a test. I’m only a couple of hours away from the island. If they _can_ track the hard drive, they’re more likely to make a play for it here than in New Zealand. Or Canada.”

“Annnnnnd, if they don’t…?” Player trailed off expectantly. Carmen sighed. “C’mon, Red, we compromised on this!”

“ _And_ if they don’t come after it in their own backyard, it’s probably safe enough to bring to you.”  

“And now that you’re there, and no one else is, I think it’s time to cross the pond.”

“I’ve literally only been in the city twelve hours. I’ll need to wait at least a few days.  If they are watching, Dr. Bellum will want to do some checking to make sure this isn’t a trap.”  Or take the time to set one of her own, but Carmen didn’t think that part would help her angle.

“Fine.” Player huffed. “I have to go downstairs for dinner. You’ll call me when you go back to the hotel? I can listen in for sketchiness while you get some sleep.”   

“Will do.”

Carmen didn’t have any particular desire to return to Casablanca, and before today would have been quite content to never set foot here again. Still, it was the only place outside the island she knew VILE had operated, and where they might expect to find her- a reunion, of sorts.

It wasn’t fear, being here, exactly.  Not the kind of heart-pumping terror that her nightmares of being back on VILE Island induced, or when she found the sewer grate welded shut and felt  the horror of seeing her only escape 70 yards and a lifetime away. She fears returning to the island because she knows that the only way she’d escape again is by death.  She just didn’t want to come back here because it _hurt_.  

But Carmen Sandiego can live with _hurt_.

Instead of lurking through the old dig site, she’d gone to the coast in the hopes of spotting the boat or helicopter early. As it had last summer, the Hassan II Mosque shone brightly over the city, and the breeze off the shore made her glad she had worn a coat this time around.  It _was_ lovely, and to someone who _wasn’t_ waiting for a life-or-death fight, perhaps even beautiful.

Many of the tourists stopped to take photos, but Carmen didn’t feel the need. She already had one, taken not too far from this spot. She hadn’t taken many over the past year, and it was only a matter of a few flicks to get to the one she was thinking of: flipping past the sunrise over Viaduct Basin; a ridiculous selfie that Player had insisted she send so he could see what she looked like; an equally ridiculous one of him she’d received in response. It was the last one that she was remembering tonight.

Black Sheep smiled back at her from the small screen, thumbs up in the Volubilis-like ruins overlooking the mosque.  It was a girl who still believed in everything she’d been taught, that her whole life was going to change that night.

 

_Well, little Black Sheep wasn’t wrong on that count._

 

She had become such an entirely different person in the last year, that night seemed like ages and also only days ago.

It had been taken almost _exactly_ one year earlier, Carmen realized.  She would have graduated two days ago, now that she thought of it, if she’d stuck it out at the Academy like Gray had asked of her last fall.  

They would have tasked her with killing someone tonight if she had. _Leave no witnesses_ \- the final test of loyalty to VILE.  But she _hadn’t_ stayed, and while maybe she wasn’t perfect, she was at least judging herself now.

About an hour before the bars in the area start to close down for the night, Carmen slowly started the walk back toward her hotel, glad that Player offered to keep virtual watch for a bit.  She doesn’t relish the thought of coming face-to-face with anyone from VILE, but all this waiting around was exhausting.

And if two drunk fools who tried to cause her trouble on the way found themselves each with one broken arm and some bruises from a kick to the throat, then at least she let them go with their lives. She couldn’t say that Black Sheep would have done the same.

She lost her hat in the scuffle, but that gave her a reason to get a better fitting one anyway.

_I pass. You fail._

In the morning, she’ll work up the nerve to go check out the dig site.

 

* * *

 

_Casablanca, Morocco_

_May 31, 2018_

 

Crackle doesn’t really know what he’s doing here ( _yes he does)._ It’s not like he doesn’t have plenty of more important things he should be doing ( _nothing is more important)_ , or that there’s anything here for him to find _(but, oh, he wishes there was)_.  

Graduation was only two days ago. Black Sheep was probably still out on her first mission, with her _new_ teammates ( _he doesn’t know who they are, but he hates them so very much_ ).  She’s meant for bigger things than the rest of them, no matter how much she claimed to love the petty world of pick-pocketing.  Her mission was probably a crazy museum heist, or high stakes corporate espionage. She’d probably draw it out longer than necessary, just because she’d have so much fun doing it ( _who is watching her back?)._

He couldn’t help but hope that she might want to see him after, to look for him, that she would cool off once she was off the island.  This was the only place that he could think of where they might both think to meet. He’d taken her words too personally, the last time they’d spoken, because he _knew_ how fiercely she fought back when she felt cornered- hard and reckless- but he’d been so determined to see her that he’d pushed her and then... _(he would kill to protect her again if he had too, but she hadn’t wanted to hear that.)_

The dig site has long since been abandoned- a mysterious explosion and major theft will do that, he supposes- but the memories are everywhere. The scorch marks around the crater on the quarry wall, the opening to Antonio’s tunnel in the lower level of the pit, the ramp where he’d watched the lead archaeologist see Black Sheep and he hadn’t cut the power in time to keep her face hidden... It was a long-shot, anyway, that the two of them would think enough alike to end up in this one random corner of the world, a year after it all went so wrong.  

He’s due in France tomorrow, to work on security upgrades at the hideout in Poitiers and he’s got the perfect backup plan to track her down. Every score from Western Europe goes through there for authentication and appraisal by Cleo or Haber. He knows it’s only a matter of time before Black Sheep has to make a drop in that vault.  

He knows she won’t be able to resist picking up the dolls. _(she hates people touching them, but he thinks she’ll forgive him just this once.)_

Crackle is left with an hour before last call in the city and that’s plenty of time to drink away his sorrows.  The first nightclub he gets to has two drunken idiots howling in pain as they kick a scuffed red hat across the ground. He’s not really looking for a fight, so he passes on that one for the cafe across the street instead.

( _Cheers to your graduation, Black Sheep)._

In the morning, he’s on a flight to Paris.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1- The Ruble Crisis and Argentine riots of December 2001 are actual events that happened at these times, that seemed like things VILE would have a hand in if the actually existed (The Chief even listed ‘manipulation of financial markets’ as one of their major crimes). That being said, these were real events with real causes and consequences, and I’m using them out of appreciation for historical accuracy andvalue, not to make light of the outcomes. 
> 
> 2- If you aren’t familiar with Carmen Sandiego history, most of the classic villains in the CS franchise have puns for names. Justin Case is a VILE laywer from Where in Time is Carmen Sandiego? 
> 
> 3- Tsu Mi: Tsu Mi is a minor character from the 1996 Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego? video game. A little bit of throwback! On a serious note, I am fully aware that I went completely ‘Women in Refrigerators’ on her, and I do apologize for that and don't take it lightly. I did try to give her a little bit of personality, but her role was always going to be small because this is Carmen’s story. I promise to do better by the ladies when we get around to more Sheena and Ivy!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, everyone!
> 
> Chapter 2 is a bit more action-oriented, and includes Carmen's first (mostly) solo caper! Admittedly, there are a few things that setup the next round of major plot points, so please bear with me:-) Chapter 3 will have some of my favorite stuff in the whole story, but there are some growing pains to get through first! There are many notes about specific things referenced at the end. Enjoy!

_ Lisbon, Portugal _

_ June 6, 2018 _

 

“The  _ MS Veendam _ . It makes one Atlantic crossing to Boston every year to start its summer cruise routes for the Holland America Line.  It leaves in an hour and a half. If you can sneak on board before it departs, you can jump off at the port of call in Halifax in ten days.”

It was hard to hear Player over the trains of  _ Santa Apolónia _ , but Carmen couldn’t resist testing herself.

“Halifax; capital of Nova Scotia. Known for its long running port  _ and  _ historic architecture.” A beat of silence, then: “And what do you mean ‘ _ if’ _ ?” Carmen added. “Sneak is what I  _ do.” _

“Once you’re on board” Player pointedly ignored her, “get into the server room with your phone and I can update the manifest to make you an official passenger. Until then, you’ll have to keep clear of customs and the crew.”

_ “ _ Shouldn’t be a problem. But on that note, any luck with the passport?”  

“Still in progress. But once you’re here, I can work on a fake ID that’s  _ much  _ more convincing than the one you lifted in New Zealand. We’re gonna have so much  _ fuuuuuuun _ .”  

Carmen wasn’t sure if Player meant by meeting generally or with using forged documents specifically, but felt it best not to ask as she approached the dramatic concrete architecture of the  _ Jardim do Tabaco _ terminal.

“I can’t wait.” She’d have liked to stay in Lisbon a little longer to see the sites, but this  _ was  _ her best shot of getting to Player’s side of the Atlantic.

“Sorry I couldn’t get you a flight. Getting a pilot to look the other way on a transatlantic trip is an expensive proposition, and we’re  _ basic _ ally broke.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She knew  _ we  _ really meant  _ her _ , and that, honestly, had been Carmen’s whole life for the last six months. Being on the run from VILE was high-stakes, but not high-profit. “But if you really want to make it up to me, I wouldn’t say no to a stateroom with a balcony?” She teased.

“You’ll get the best room available, Red. First class from here on out.”   

Carmen ended the call and deftly slipped through hallway clearly meant for employees. It was only a matter of minutes until three uniformed young men appeared, rolling carts heavy with catering supplies for the ship. Each one had an ID badge and a white keycard hanging from a clip on his shirt.  

Carmen smiled and nodded as they walked past her. “ _ Boa tarde. _ ”

Then only two of them had keycards.    

 

* * *

 

_ North Atlantic Ocean, between Ponta Delgada, Azores and Halifax, Nova Scotia _

_ June 12, 2018 _

 

_ This,  _ Carmen thought from her deck chair,  _ was the way to live life.  _

As much as she’d dreamed about stowing away and seeing the world from the super-yachts that came and went in Auckland, she’d not ever really experienced life at sea.

It was  _ fantastic _ . Sure, she’s well aware that it’s all fake- from her (very much balcony-ed) stateroom registered to ‘Carla Santiago’ down to breakfast small-talk with the other passengers. But she  _ had  _ grown up on an island, and a love of the ocean went hand-in-hand with that.  

Well, once she’d shaken the sea-sickness, anyway.

But she had finally managed to go a solid 24 hours without wanting to throw up, and was just about to call Player to describe the sun and breeze, when a slim, oddly-familiar shadow caught her eye.

_ No way.   _ It  _ must  _ have been a trick of the light.  VILE would send a cleaner after her, not a courier, wouldn’t they?

She didn’t think about it again until the on-board reception as the ship continued at sea the next night.  It was an art auction, featuring a lot of work that Carmen has never heard of, but found impressive all the same. There were two featured artists present- a haughty young photographer with a French accent, and an affable older gentleman who painted with bright oils.

This time there is no mistaking the lanky man in a bowler hat, studiously comparing the list of auction items to a painting on the wall. Carmen bolted out of the room, breathless.

_ Haber _ .  _ Dash Haber is here. _

She fled back to her stateroom, reckless and desperate. Anything not nailed down was stacked in front of the door minutes later.   The balcony entrance, which had been so welcomed only hours earlier, suddenly screamed liability.  _ How did they know she was here? _

It took her shaking hands three tries to dial Player.

“ _ It’s off.”  _ She bit harshly. “The plan is off. I’m not coming. They- they’re  _ here.  _ I can’t- I don’t know how. How did he  _ know _ ?”

“Carmen? Easy-  _ easy.  _ What happened?”

“VILE is here. One of their couriers.”  

“You mean cleaners?” Player’s voice went from annoyed to serious. “Tell me everything while I boot up.”  

Carmen could hear something humming in the background, and glanced at the clock with a wince. She’d likely woken him up.

“He’s called Dash Haber. He’s not a cleaner. More of an... _ appraiser _ , among other things for VILE. He sometimes came to the island to bring Cleo information on potential new students or pick up forgeries.”  

“I don’t see him on the manifest, but that doesn’t mean much. Did you notice anything else about him? His room, or what he brought on board?”   

“No. I just saw him for a second. He was examining one of the portraits.”  Carmen winced. Her first instinct had been an overreaction. She should have stayed to spy on him. “I wasn’t even in Lisbon until a few hours before we left, and there were at least three ships there.  How could he have known I would be on board this one?  _ No one  _ saw me sneak on, I’m positive.”

It was off, Carmen realized, that Haber would be the one to come after her.  She didn’t know much about him, other than his visits to the island had been more infrequent as time went on and mostly he only spoke to Cleo.  Haber reminded her a little bit of Mime Bomb- an observer, not a fighter. Not someone you send on a capture of any significance.

Player was quiet but for the sound of his hands flying over the keyboard, but Carmen  _ fumed.  _  It  _ should  _ have been one, if not both, of the cleaners.  She’d escaped them  _ and _ the entirety of the VILE faculty on her own; she’d  _ earned  _ at least that much respect!  How  _ dare  _ they send a glorified  _ mailman _ after h-

“Ok- I thin- _ Oh! _ ” Player cut himself off and Carmen could only hear his keyboard, practically buzzing. “Alright, this is my bad. I should have caught this.”

“Player, I’m not really in the mood for-”

“I say this with love, Red,” and Carmen could tell he was trying to tease her, to get her mood back up, “but not  _ everything  _ is about  _ you _ . The ship you’re on? They just launched a campaign to host a major arts initiative on board as a new business venture.  It’s carrying  _ four million  _ dollars in artwork right now, some pieces of which are a rotating exhibit, and some meant to be sold to passengers.” 

Now that she’d calmed a little, Carmen started to think more clearly. “That sounds like exactly the sort of thing VILE would want to stick their hands in.”

She paused, then it struck her.  “Wait. You’re saying I’m essential trapped in the middle of the ocean with an agent of my former-school-slash-criminal-empire  _ by coincidence _ ?”

“It’s really kinda funny if you think about it?” Player offered meekly. “There is a passenger named Tailor Notion who registered his room six months ago and checked in as soon as the dock opened; almost eight hours before you were even in the city.  He specifically requested the cabin next to one of the artists-in-residence.”

“If that’s him then...” Carmen felt sick. “He’s going to steal the work from the auction?”   _ How could she stop this? _

“That would make sense based on what you saw tonight.” Player agreed. “Here’s the kicker- the credit card Notion used for the reservation is tied to a corporate account for  _ Valuable Imports Limited _ . That same company was the registered owner of the boat you took to leave the island.”

She was done with the ocean after this, Carmen decided. She’d rather throw herself out of an airplane (again).

“I have to stop him.” She’d had this thought as soon as she’d seen VILE on board, and wasn’t looking forward to breaking the news. “I’m sorry, Player, I know I’m supposed to jump ship in Halifax, but I can’t just leave Haber to...  _ whatever  _ this is.”

“I’d expect no less of you, Red.  At least you’ll be on the right continent.”

 

* * *

 

_ Boston, Massachusetts, United States of America _

_ June 20, 2018 _

 

She was never going to make fun of Mime Bomb again.  Watching someone’s every move was  _ boring  _ and if Dash Haber didn’t commit some actual crime soon, Carmen would go crazy.

“He’s had lunch with the painter with the goatee from the exhibit, went to a yoga class, and spent about the rest of the time on his computer.   _ I’m  _ going out of my mind, meanwhile  _ he’s  _ on vacation.”

“No return trips to the gallery?”

“None.  If I knew what piece he’s after I’d just warn the captain and have it locked up somewhere else. But he might be waiting until everyone’s off the ship to make a move.”

Carmen managed to keep Dash Haber in eyesight all morning, as the ship’s passengers slowly disembarked after the long voyage. He packed a single overnight bag, and did not set so much as a toe beyond the passenger areas.  She had nothing.

She was about a dozen people behind him, part of the final group to disembark.  The gray-haired artist from the cruise, the portrait-painter, was also near him. Just as the older man turned to leave down the gangplank, the two shook hands, and Carmen could see a flash of white. Dash Haber had given him a card.

_ He’s not thieving.  _ Carmen realized, lead in her stomach, because she’d missed it entirely.  _ He’s recruiting! _

“Stay away from him!” she clapped a hand over her mouth, but too late.  The noise attracted the attention of everyone around her, including Dash and the gray-hired artist next to him.  They both looked at her oddly, as Carmen stared back in horror.

Haber’s face smoothed after a moment, and he pulled out his phone. Carmen flew into action, leaping across the gangplank with a sharp kick that sent the phone flying to the dock.  

“Come with me; I can help protect you.”  She grabbed the man’s hand and tried to smile reassuringly. She made to twist back around the run the down to the dock, as Dash was occupied trying to push through the crowd, but found her momentum stopped by a heavy weight.

“Are you  _ crazy _ , kid?” The man she’d been trying to get away from Haber, the ship’s artist, hadn’t moved a step. In fact, he was looking at her like  _ she  _ was the dangerous one. “I’m not going  _ anywhere  _ with you.  Where are your parents?”

Just then, a firm hand gripped her shoulder. Thinking Haber had collected his phone and returned, Carmen slipped herself forward and out of her long coat then reared an elbow back into his spleen. She twisted and followed it up with a knee to the groin. He went down with a low shout; Carmen spun and prepared a jab in the throat to silence him, but stopped short when she realized with panic that it was a security officer. She wasted no time in pushing a hand into his shoulder and vaulting over his back to clear the rest of the gangplank and fled into the crowd.  

Two more uniformed officers had now approached the dock and tried to pin her in. Without thinking, she slid low and took one out with a low sweep of leg to the left.  As she hoisted her backpack over her shoulders to free her hands, Carmen expertly nabbed the handcuffs from other officer’s belt, and snapped his wrist to the guardrail.  There was no time to think.

“I’m  _ really, really sorry  _ about this.”

An urgent page went off the in terminal building; security was clearly on high alert. Carmen slid a pair of sunglasses off the head of a nearby passenger and a  _ Harvard  _ sweatshirt hanging off the bag of another, then pulled her hair into a bun.  She walked at a measured pace, and tried out her best  _ wow-look-at-all-this-security-wonder-what-happened  _ expression.  As it had on her escape from VILE, her courage lasted exactly long enough to make to the door, and she took off at run, trying to dig through her bag for the phone as she went.   The terminal opened up into an industrial looking-area, but Carmen could see buildings and more ports in the distance.

“Red? Are you off? Did you catch Haber?”

“Mmm...Yes and no.” Carmen replied, trying to quell her horror. “I’m in a little bit of a situation. I- I hurt someone.”  

“Oh.” Player replied. “I take it you don’t mean someone’s feelings.”

“I assaulted an officer, because I thought he was VILE. I- I could have killed him.”

“Are you ok? Do you need me to call an amubu-”

“No! I mean, no, I  _ didn’t  _ kill him, but I- I was about to. I wasn’t thinking.  And now I think they’re looking for me _ and  _ Haber is still here, so if I get caught…”

“Then you’re a sitting duck.”

“Exactly. Can you look for a safe place for me to stash my bag? If I get caught, the most important thing is that I keep VILE’s hands off the hard drive.”

Player rattled off a few twists and turns, and Carmen doubled them and added a few of her own whenever she spotted one of the officers who were still canvassing the area. After about fifteen minutes, she found herself mixed in with the crowds moving through the Convention Center.

“Player, this isn’t a locker. It’s FedEx.”

“Yep.” He didn’t offer any additional explanation, but Carmen  _ knew _ .

“ _ No.  _ I’m not sending it with so many people looking for me. It’s too-”

“Too dangerous.  _ No it isn’t _ .  I know what I’m doing. I’m not just some little kid. ”   

_ You’re still just a kid.  _ Gray’s voice swam in her memory.   _ I kept you safe. _

Player was still speaking.

“I prepaid for a box and put a fake address on it. I’ll reroute it a dozen times before it gets sent here. No one will know.”  

“Sounds like a recipe for getting lost.”

“They have tracking, Carmen. I’ll watch it the whole time.”

She had been so angry because Gray had chosen to keep her safe over making her happy, over doing the right thing.   _ Even if it means you’ll never speak to me again, I don’t regret it.  _  Carmen closed her eyes and exhaled. For the first time, she felt like she understood that, just a bit.  It was a terrible thing to have someone you wanted to look out for face unknown danger.

She knew what she had to do.

“That’s not good enough.”

“ _ Carme-” _

“I’m putting my phone in the box too. You can track that. The drive has to get to someone who can use it. And that means to you.”  

“What? Carmen! _ ” _

_ “ _ Try to look up why VILE would recruit the portrait artist from the cruise. I’ll call you when I can.”

“No! Don’t hang-”

_ [Call ended.] _

 

* * *

 

She wouldn’t specifically call herself a master of disguise, but when it came to anything in Cleo’s lessons that could shorten class by doing it  _ faster _ (such as how to change out of formalwear and into normal clothes) Carmen definitely paid attention.  She was glad for Cleo’s determination to “civilize” her into a quick-change artist now.

She shoved the sweatshirt in her backpack, and snagged a more seasonally appropriate Red Sox t-shirt before leaving the Convention Center. She’d tried to circle back and locate Dash Haber and his artist friend, but there were still too many police officers and dark vehicles circling around the docks. She backed around to a large green space full of families and scanned for her next move.

Step one should probably be finding a new phone. Step Two would be finding a place to sleep. Carmen groaned to herself; it would be hard to get used to abandoned rooms and sketchy corners after enjoying the stateroom on the  _ Veendam  _ for two weeks.

The smell of chocolate and sugar hit her as she left the park, and diverted into the open door of a Dunkin Donuts.  _ New step one: snacks.  _ Of course, that would be a lot easier if she had any cash on her.  She could wait it out until someone deserving of her “red hat” theft wandered through and left either donut or wallet unattended.

She asked for a water, and took a spot at a table in corner where she could view the small dining area.  The place was mostly empty: a mother with her young child were finishing up something that left a lot of purple jelly and powdered sugar everywhere, and two redheads, a man and a woman about her age, were facing each other in a booth near the door. They were each looking warily at a couple of donuts in the middle of the table, which Carmen eyed with envy.   

Forty minutes passed, and Carmen knew she would have to move on soon, but couldn’t help notice that while three others had come and gone, the redheads hadn’t moved any more than she.  It felt suspicious.

Just as Carmen was about to make a move closer in order to overhear their conversation, her stomach growled loudly, and she blushed, embarrassed. The girl at the table looked up and gave her a sympathetic smile.   _ That  _ should probably be her cue to leave; Carmen didn’t want to risk being recognized if the search was still on outside.

“Are you hungry?” The boy at the booth spoke, holding up a donut from his table. The girl gave him a look of disagreement, but he just glared at her and continued. “You can have these, if you want.”

“Oh, no thanks.” Carmen demurred, “I’m waiting for someone.”

The girl gave her a look for full of pity. “Hon, you must be new at this. You’ve been here almost an hour and if he hasn’t shown up by now, the guy you’re waiting on ain’t comin’. You’ve been stood up.”

Carmen blinked. It would look that way, she supposed.  The girl must have taken her silence as disappointment, and slid over from her own booth to Carmen’s table.  “I’m Ivy. The lug over there is my little brother Zack.”

Carmed immediately liked her; she seemed honest, and her easygoing attitude remaindered her a little bit of Payer. “Carmen.”

Zack now moved also, carrying the still uneaten donuts. “You should ignore Ivy.  I’m her  _ twin-” _

_ “ _ Still younger.”

“-brother. Also, I was lying about the donuts. You really don’t want to eat these. They are  _ vile _ .”

“Definitely want to avoid that, then.” Carmen agreed. 

 

* * *

 

_ Boston, MA _

_ June 25, 2018 _

 

“Domino’s Pizza.”

“I can see through that trick now,  _ Player.” _

“Well maybe if you  _ kept your phone instead of tossing it randomly into a box _ I’d know who you were when you called,  _ Carmen _ .”

“I promise never to do it again.” Carmen responded sincerely. “I mean, probably. Only if I have to.”

“Spoken like a true thief.” Player added, though his tone was less annoyed now. “Is this going to be your new number?”

“For now.” Carmen replied.  It would be a little tougher to get by on stealing phones, since she’d have to dump them pretty regularly. “I’ll snag a prepaid as soon as I find one. Big cities always have a good selection.”

“You mean a good selection of crummy people.”

Carmen smiled but changed the subject.  “Speaking of which, any chance you’ve been able to find out why VILE was recruiting the artist?”  

“Of  _ course _ .” Carmen could tell Player was back to focusing on his computer, because the sound of keyboard tapping filled the background. “The guy on the cruise is becoming well-known for emulating the style of Vermeer.”

“The oil painter?” Carmen wracked her memory for the details. “Dutch. Lots of color, lots of light, right?”

“You got it.” Player confirmed. “Our guy has a copyist permit at the National Gallery of Art to work on replicating Vermeer’s  _ Girl with the Red Hat  _ one day a month. Yesterday afternoon, he notified the NGA that he only needed one more work sessions and would be done at the end of the month.  Haber’s fake credit card was also charged for two tickets from IAD to Zurich for Friday.”

“ _ Girl with the Red Hat _ , huh?” Carmen commented wistfully. Her coat and hat had been ill-fitting and worn, but they’d come to represent a lot to her. She would have to replace them eventually. “I admit I like the style. But if you were going to try and sell forgeries, it would help to get up close and personal with the original.”

It didn’t feel quite right, Carmen realized.  It had Cleo’s touch all over it, but she was one to sell replicas of  _ lost _ treasures, things that couldn’t easily be located or authenticated except by the most exceptional. Why go to so much trouble to create a forgery, when the real deal was easily proven to be in the museum? Why not just-

“Oh, no.” Carmen stiffened, suddenly realizing. “They aren’t just going to forge a copy, they’re going to  _ replace  _ it.”

Player hummed in agreement. “I’ll have a ticket to DC loaded on your phone by the time you get to the train station.”

 

* * *

 

_ Acela Express, somewhere between Boston and New York. _

_ June 25, 2018 _

 

“So what’s the plan?” Player asked. “Seeing as how barreling through a crowd didn’t work out so hot last time.”

“I had a thought, but it’s a little crazy.” Carmen leaned her head back against the seat. Player was trying to make her feel better, but faced with six hours of little to go but think, she was having hard time. _The officer at the dock, the pair in Casablanca._ What was she becoming? “Do you remember when I thought Haber was trying to rob the gallery on the _Veendam_? I said if I knew what he was after, I could tell the crew to move that work to somewhere more secure.”

“Take if from someone who has been  _ trying  _ to give law enforcement a heads up for months: they won’t listen to you.”

“Exactly. No one else even  _ knows  _ about VILE. Instead of asking someone else to do it,  _ I will.  _ I’m going to steal  _ Girl with the Red Hat _ before they do.”

Player whistled appreciatively. “Damn, Red. That’s bold. You are really taking this ‘Red Hat’ attack thing seriously.”

Carmen smiled and pulled out a notebook; the student trying to cheat on his summer school paper eight rows back would certainly never miss it. “Let’s plan a heist.”

 

* * *

 

_ National Gallery of Art, Washington DC _

_ June 29, 2018 _

 

The night view down the National Mall was spectacular, and Carmen wished she could have arrived in town with time to visit any number of the impressive museums that lined it.

“I’m feeding a loop to the security cameras.  I can’t just turn off  _ all  _ the motion sensors- the rotating nighttime security will expect to see them- but I’ll do my best to keep up with you.”

“That’ll make the timing important.” Carmen agreed. She couldn’t help but wish she had Gray’s device for feigning security grids right about now. He may have been thief and liar, but she had to admit he’d been  _ really  _ good at creating the right tools for the job.

“Gotcha. I’m about to drop into the West Building. Vermeer’s works are in Gallery 50a, so start there.  Once I have the painting, I’ll sneak through to the Rotunda and straight out. It’s small, so I should be able to move quickly.”

“Lock and loaded, Red. Call out the galleries as you go and I'll shift the sensors one by one.”

Carmen glanced through the window. It wasn’t a long way down, and there were two couches back to back in the middle of the room that would cushion her jump.

She pried up a panel of glass and tied off a rope to a sturdy-looking pipe, then slid slowly down. Once she was clear of the skylight, Carmen swung her legs out, narrowly avoiding the beam of spotlights by an inch, but generated enough momentum to make a half-twisting arc to the bench in the center of the room.

Carmen looped her backpack over the front of her left arm, and pulled out a small piece of plywood. Player hasn’t detected any weight sensors tied into the security system, but that didn’t rule out physical pressure switch, and Carmen wasn’t going to take any chances.   _ Bait and Switch. _

She didn’t envy the poor security guard who would find it in place of  _ Girl with the Red Hat _ , but better a temporary theft than a permanent one.  50A was thankfully close to the Rotunda, but also tucked away with only two entrances. Carmen glanced around the small gallery:  _ Woman Holding a Balance, Girl with a Flute, Girl with the Red- _

Well, that was a problem.

“Player, are you there?” Carmen’s voice was flat.

“The was fast, Red. What direction are you headed? I recommend through Gallery 51; you’ll get a nice look at some Rembrandt on the way out.”

“It’s not here.”

“We’re too late? That’s impossible!”

Carmen looked around again, examining the other works with her Cleo-trained eye. “There’s nothing missing or out of place. None of these are forgeries.   _ Girl with the Red Hat _ just...isn’t here.”

Player was silent for a moment, and then: “The other side of the gallery wall is an information desk. Your current phone doesn’t have the networking power the last one did, but maybe if you can get to local computer, I can see what happened.”

Carmen crept through two additional galleries (and yes, the Rembrandt  _ was  _ lovely; she made a note to come back and see the whole building sometime.) before entering the large rotunda.  Two security guards were walking toward the East wing, and Carmen pressed herself behind one of the huge columns of black marble, hoping fervently she wouldn’t have to incapacitate them.

They passed, unaware. Carmen let out a breath of relief.  

The information desk was dark, but Carmen located a well-used workstation immediately.

“Ugh.” she whispered, “This keyboard is  _ disgusting _ . How often do they clean these things?”

“Not everyone is as well-trained as you are in removing fingerprints.” Player replied. “But I agree; people who let their machine rot are the  _ real  _ villains out there.”  

“It doesn’t look like this one is connected to their internal network- it’s probably just for answering visitor questions.” Player said. “I’m sorry, Carmen. There’s not much I can do from here.”

Carmen narrowed her eyes. “I might not be a  _ full fledged  _ hacker just yet, but I do know a thing or two about tricking my way into a computer.”

“She guesses  _ one  _ password at  _ one  _ public library and all of sudden she’s Kevin Mitnick…”

Carmen turned on the computer and ducked beneath the desk.  Sure enough, a yellowing piece of paper covered in cellophane tape was stuck to the underside.   _ Username: Infodesk1, Password: N@t1onalGA.  _  She smiled. “We’re in.”

“Ok, I take it back. I thought people only did that on TV.”    Player directed her to a website with a long list of characters at the end, and as soon she’d typed it in, wide batches of text filled the screen.  “I can’t control the system, but at least I can access all the onsite activity logs from here.”

“I thought people only did  _ that  _ on TV.” Carmen muttered.

“That’s a lie,” Player replied offhandedly. “You don’t even watch TV. But remind me to add  _ Veronica Mars  _ to the list.”

Player worked in silence for a moment, and then broke it with a curse.  “Carmen, you have to get out of there.”

“What? I’m not leaving without the painting.”  _ This had to work _ .  She’d had a good plan, she’d avoided hurting the guards, she’d been  _ thoughtful  _ and  _ patient  _ and-

“Who’s there?”

The bright spot off a flashlight hit her in the eyes, and she immediately ducked below the desk on instinct.  

“Player?”

“Sorry, Red.  The light from the screen set off sensor in the hallway; I wasn’t paying attention.”

Carmen look around. The desk area had a gate but no other exits, and she berated herself for being thoughtless.  _ Never enter a room without an exit plan. _

“I’ll call you back.”

She waited until two sets of footsteps were within a few feet of her, carefully counted to 30, and sprung. The guards both had flashlights drawn, and Carmen leapt between them so that they both had to turn away from the other’s light. Using the temporary blindness, she rolled sideways as she hit the floor, grabbing at the belt of the closer guard as she moved.  _ Her favorite trick. _

Carmen ran for the main door, thoughtlessly slamming her entire body weight against it in a bid to force it open as the two ran after her.

“ _ Umphf.”  _ It didn’t budge, but her shoulder throbbed painfully.  __ The first guard cried out at the same time she did; the heavy weight of the equipment on his undone belt had pulled down his trousers. His partner stood motionless, either entertained or confused, Carmen guessed. Regardless, the distraction worked, and she pulled around them back into the rotunda.

She darted back the way she came (no time for Rembrandt now), and found the gallery she’d entered earlier.  The rope was still there; it was meant to serve as an immediate warning to security after Carmen was long gone, but it made a great backup escape plan.

Her shoulder burned and spasmed as she wrestled her way back up, hand over hand, but there were more shouts in the hallway and no time to lose.

She flopped over on her back after coercing her body over the glass ledge, and grappled for the knife in her pocket. There was a guard below trying to climb, but he was only a few feet from the group, and the tension helped her cut through the rope in one clean slice.  For precious seconds, Carmen could only try to focus on gasping for air, harsh hacksaw breaths that did little to help the ache in her shoulder.

She forced herself up and over the next bevy of skylights, trying to find a spot for a quick decent. Her only option looked to be two tall trees near the edge of the roof. Carmen judged the distance and gulped. She could make it, but it would be close.  

Still, a distinct lack of other options saw her back up a few paces and sprint forward. She bound off the roof and reached to grab the large branch extending her direction. For a moment, it worked; her hands hit the branch with a solid grip, and she spotted a firm limb beneath her to drop.  Then it shattered; her left shoulder gave out as she swung wide and she was wrenched sideways, tumbling below and hitting the bough shoulder-first with her full weight once again. 

Her left arm dropped oddly in agonizing pain, and she all but slipped off and down to the ground level.

The original plan had been to run north and fall into the crowd around the arena, but Carmen knew she was on entirely the wrong side of the building, and needed to gain space more than follow the plan. Instead, she crossed the Mall to the south, and tried to convince herself she could make it to the wharf.

Two blocks later, she still cradled her left arm as the stumbling late night crowd tried to push their way into the last metro at L’Enfant plaza and had to admit defeat.

“Player, I need a ride.” She bite out.  “And probably a place to crash.”

“Relax, Red. That’s one thing I  _ can  _ do from here. You’ve got a room at the Mandarin Oriental. Just make sure you swipe a card before you check out. My mom’s can live with a temporary hold but she’d definitely notice a night in a suite. Your Uber will be there in seven minutes.”

“My  _ what?”  _   Player ignored her, but she could him mutter ‘on the list’ in the background.

“How about you? Are you ok? Should I reroute to a hospital?”  Carmen tightened her hold on her arm. It made her wish she still had her coat, if for nothing else than to help support her shoulder. The pain was growing worse as the adrenaline faded.

“Been better.” She managed. “But I can handle this.”

 

* * *

 

VILE Academy, Isle of Vile

October 2016

 

_ Whumpf. _

Gray hit the mat as a bark of satisfied laughter followed from above him. Black Sheep wasn’t a stranger to taking on people bigger and stronger than herself, but after three months of Coach Brunt’s well-honed instruction, she was finally able to do more than hold her own. She could fight, and she could _win._

“Sometimes I think you really  _ enjoy _ getting your ass kicked.” Black Sheep commented, as she leaned down to better mock him. “Considering how often it seems to happen to you lately.”

“You gotta watch out for that type, little Black Sheep.” Sheena called over her shoulder, where she was still sparring with her partner. “You might get in over your head.”

Black Sheep ignored her, and instead tossed Gray his lost staff and helped him upright.

“Maybe I’m just learning all of your weaknesses until you run out ways to surprise me.” Gray defended himself.

“Maybe.” Black Sheep smiled. “Let’s go again.”

She quickly found herself on the defensive, this time fighting to keep her own staff in front of Gray’s.  He grinned, gradually pushing her farther and farther back.

_ Patience.  _ Black Sheep knew what any of her instructors would say,  _ watch and wait for an opening _ .  But Sheena was smirking off to the left, now finished with her own bout, as Gray did the same in front of her.

_ Screw that. _

Black Sheep tossed her staff down and ducked under Gray’s next blow. He stepped forward to put his right foot on her discarded staff to keep her from retrieving it as he reared back for another blow to pin her.  Black Sheep was counting on it, and the moment he swung forward she levered her staff to her left, wrenching his right foot off the floor. Gray teetered, and Black Sheep pushed her staff horizontally into his ankle and sent him crashing forward onto the floor, arms outstretched.

He sat up, face grim, but holding his right arm at an odd angle. Black Sheep felt her stomach drop, but was frozen to her spot.

_ What happened? _

“Clear a path, clear a path.” Coach Brunt moved through the class, which had entirely abandoned their own bouts to watch the drama.  She put a hand on Gray’s shoulder lightly, and he huffed out a sharp breath. Coach Brunt hummed, and then turned to Black Sheep.

“Black Sheep, over here.”

“ _I- I’m_ sorry.” Black Sheep stuttered. _What had she done?_ “I didn’t- didn’t know, I didn’t _mean_ _to-_ ”

“Hush, Lambikins. You break it, you bought it. If you’re gonna pop people’s shoulder out of place, you need to learn how to put it back.”

“Yeah,  _ Lambikins.”  _ Gray echoed with a tight smile. Black Sheep knew he was trying to annoy her, and resolved to let him get away with that just this once, but it only made her feel worse that he was the one easing  _ her  _ distress in such a situation.

“The quicker, the better.” Coach Brunt instructed her seriously, “Hold the arm out straight, and then rotate it over the head and toward the back of the opposite shoulder.  If there isn’t too much tension, it will fall back into place.”

“Yeah, this isn’t tense at all.” Gray muttered. Black Sheep’s face crumbled again, he immediately looked contrite. “I mean, it’s fine.”

“I’m going to make this up to you.” Black Sheep told him fervently as she grasped his arm. “I don’t know how yet, but I will. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”  He replied with closed eyes.

Black Sheep expected a loud crack, or pop, or something to indicate the bone was back in its proper socket, but there’s was only a gentle jump, and Gray immediately sighed in relief.

“Sling for two days, no contact training for three weeks.” Coach Brunt prescribed. “I’m sure Dr. Bellum can keep you busy in the lab until then.  Nice work, Black Sheep.” She clapped Black Sheep on the shoulder, and that and a surge of relief nearly knocked her over.

 

* * *

 

Mandarin Oriental, Washington DC

June 30, 2018

 

Carmen blinked as sunlight tried to peek into her room, grateful for the heavy curtains that kept it mostly at bay.  She looked around for what had awakened her, trying to shake off the remnants of her dream and finally noticing her phone buzzing excitedly on the nightstand.

“How’s the arm, Carm?”  Carmen rolled her shoulder experimentally. It ached a bit, but nothing even close to how it felt the previous night.

“It’s fine. I’ll just need to take it easy for a while. I got it back in place pretty quick so there won’t be much damage.”

“I googled it and even the photos of dislocated arms made me squicky. I can’t believe you put in back in yourself. You’re made of tougher stuff than I am. ”  

“I don’t know about that,” Carmen replied. Player’s strengths were of a different kind than hers, but certainly no less.  “And I’ve done it before.” 

Player huffed but knew not to ask for details. Instead he went on.   

“I didn’t think to check until I saw the activity roster at the visitor’s desk.  _ Girl with the Red Hat  _ was never at the museum. We should have gone to the storage facility- it’s part of the collection but off display. We never had a chance. I’m sorry.”

Carmen slowly walked over to the window and pulled the curtain back. DC was a beautiful city, but she wasn’t in the mood to appreciate it. “Long gone with VILE now, I expect.”

“The log says it’s fine, but…”

But they both knew the fake was sitting storage, and the original was on a plane to Europe.  She had failed. There was silence for a long moment, and Carmen was about to hang up, when Player’s voice came back on, free of his usual bravado.

“I know it didn’t end up how we wanted, but you know this  _ worked _ , right? The concept. You on the ground, me online. We didn't even have a plan on the _Veendam_.  But this time, we knew what we were doing. We can do this. We  _ can  _ catch them in the act. We  _ will _ . ”

Carmen smiled.  She wasn’t one to give up after failing the first test, and was glad Player felt the same.  “I nearly blew it. If I’m going to really make this work, I’ll need to step my game up. I need to work on better gear. A grappling hook would have come in handy.”  

She started to make mental list of things to collect.  She’d made some of those things before, and it couldn’t be too hard to do it again. “Maybe an earpiece too. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to whip up some crime gadgets in between hacking attempts?”  _ Maybe some trackers too. One on the painting would have changed everything... _

“I can...try?” Player sounded uncertain, and it was so unlike him that Carmen stopped her quick-running plans.

“Player?”

“Look, Red, I’m good at what I do. Probably the best.”  _ There it is.  _ “But I’m not like,  _ an engineer.  _ I write code, not mechanical schematics. _ ” _

Gadgets had never been her best subject, either, so Carmen understood that. “I’ll figure something out.” __

“I have some good news, though!” Player broke through her morose thoughts. “Guess what finally arrived today?”

“You got the hard drive!” Carmen had almost forgotten she’d sent it just after arriving in Boston. “Have you been able to find anything?”

“I thought your phone was tough, but I’ve never seen  _ anything  _ like this. It’ll take some time.” She knew it was true, but couldn’t help the disappointment that settled on her.  

“Well, we’ve got plenty of that now.  I’ll start working my way north to you as soon as I can. Maybe I can help. ”

“No way!” Player argued. “You are  _ injured.  _ I’m not booking you any tickets. You are in no shape to sneak across an international border. I looked it up online and a dislocated shoulder takes twelve weeks to heal.”  

Carmen rolled her eyes, somewhat offended.  “I’ll need three tops.”

 

“Ten.”

“Four.”

“Six.”

“Deal.”

  
  


* * *

 

Washington DC, USA

August 15, 2018

 

[CARMEN]

[CARMEN]

[My train to Penn Station leaves in two hours. What’s up?]

[There’s a blackout at DCA. No known cause. It reeks of VILE.]

 

Carmen stared at her phone with a shaking hand as she read Player’s text. This wasn’t just VILE at work.

 

_ Crackle.  _

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few details on the real-world stuff I shamelessly borrowed for this chapter:-)
> 
> Girl with the Red Hat- There is some debate about whether Girl with the red hat is actually a Vermeer at all, but let’s be real, it fits way too nicely to ignore. It is, in fact, part of the collection at the National Gallery of Art, but does go on loan to other museums, and even when it’s home, isn’t always on display. There is also some debate about whether the title is ‘Girl with a Red Hat’ or ‘Girl with the Red Hat’ but I’m going with ‘the’ because that’s how the NGA lists it.
> 
> National Gallery of Art/ Copyist Program- The NGA actually does have a copyist program, but as you might imagine, there are a LOT of rules, one of which is that an artist can’t actually create a scale replica- it’s had to be larger or smaller than the original. Given the VILE is involved, and this is a work of fiction, I’m ignoring that here, but really do want to stress the important of these programs in terms of providing incredible educational value, and definitely doing due diligence to prevent the exactly kind of thing I’m insinuating happens here. 
> 
> Gray’s fake security grid- This is a point from the novel/audiobook based on the cartoon, but basically what it said in-line is all you need to know:-) In the book, Gray often assisted Dr. Bellum in his spare time at the academy, and once created a device that could replace a real grid with a false one, which Dr. Bellum later used in her exam. How does it work? I don’t know. Science.
> 
> Dislocated shoulder- Please don’t fix this yourself, y’all. Go to a doctor. That being said, it is technically possible to do this.
> 
> Reagan Blackout- DCA (more formally, the Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport) lost power on the night of August 15, 2018. The cause was never publicly stated beyond a “disruption’ in the power line. We’ll pick up here in chapter 3!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends!
> 
> We're halfway through! This chapter has a couple of my favorite scenes, so please enjoy and let me know what you think:-)

_ Reagan National Airport, Washington DC _

_ August 15, 2018 _

 

Back in her academy days, during a field navigation exercise, Antonio had once shown her a tunnel he’d dug under the island. It had been useful at the time, allowing them to out-maneuver Gray and Jean-Paul, who had been tasked with chasing them down.

Carmen was reminded of that tunnel now, as she crept through the shadowy hallways of the airport.  It had been unnaturally dark, and she’d constantly been running into walls or stepping into puddles.  This was about same, only instead of squishy bugs and and puddles, there were throngs of people, and in place of shifting dirt, there was luggage strewn about.

OK, so it was nothing alike, except for the part where it was really dark.

Regular overhead announcements asked travelers to be calm and patient, and advised that the power would be restored shortly.   _ Or in exactly as long as Gray needs to grab whatever it is he’s here to do. _

The passenger terminal didn’t seem too poorly off. There were plenty of cell phones and reading lights on, and the security checkpoints were mostly calm. Carmen avoided the crowd and focused on working her way to the loading bays.  Flights were at a standstill, so it was unlikely that Gray would target a person, or anything that hadn’t been unloaded yet. 

_ Baggage.   _ He had to be interested in the something that was in cargo.

Luggage handling was frozen until scanners were back on, and Carmen knew that was the most likely place to find trouble.

“Player?” Carmen stuck in one side of her earbuds and tucked her phone into the back pocket of her shorts.  She wasn’t sure who to expect, but figured she’d want to be hands-free for it.

“I’m here. Any sign of them yet?”

“None. Can you pull the luggage scans from right before the power was cut? Bags that are stopping or transferring in DCA. “

“DCA isn’t huge, but that’s still a lot of bags. You have a hunch?”

Gray’s timing was nearly always impeccable. He wouldn’t have cut the power until he knew what he wanted was off the plane.

“Recent. Maybe the last flight to have been unloaded. Waiting too long means running the risk of losing the bag. And if it was coming from here, he’d have done a bait-and-switch before it was checked in.” Carmen theorized.  It’s what she would do, and after all, they’d had the same training.

“Gotcha. Be back in five with a list.”

Player disconnected and Carmen continued to creep along a dark ramp leading to the tarmac level from baggage claim. It was clear this was a place meant for motion; carts and bins were scattered everything, and reflective tape, mostly muted now in the dark, mapped out dozens of lanes and routes to various gate ramps. The stillness settled oddly, as even the grounded planes had no engine noise.

Carmen stumbled lightly and spun to keep her balance, straining to see what had tripped her. Two pairs of boots stuck out from of the luggage bins, and she dove under to pull them out, one by one.   _ Still breathing, thank goodness. _

Both were men, wearing bright safety vests with the airport logo, but unconscious.  Their hands were bound with thick cord, which Carmen was able to dispatch with the knife from her boot.  Hopefully they would wake up soon and be able to flee; there wasn’t much else she could do for them in the meantime.  

But it meant she was right; this wasn’t an accidental power outage.

Her phone buzzed, and Player was back.

“We’ve got a couple of options.” He started. “One east of you at Gate 21 in the B Terminal, and one south at Gate 3 in A.  A few more if you want to include flights within ten minutes of the blackout.”

She didn't. Gray was better than that. “So we’ve got a fifty-fifty shot. If I guess wrong...”

“I’m running a news search against both passenger lists, but it might take some time to narrow down.” Player offered hesitantly. Carmen was already almost an hour behind them.  There had to be  _ some _ way to predict why VILE would want to risk a mission in an airport of this size-

_ That’s it! _

“Player, what airport did those flights come from?” Carmen asked urgently. “Which one was the largest?”

“Umm…” Player huffed and paused, then continued “The flight in Terminal B came from Atlanta, and the other from Nashville. Atlanta is the busiest airport in the world; more than 100 million passengers fly through there every year.”

“That’s the one.” Carmen said confidently, turning down the path marked ‘B’ in her tunnel.

“How do you know?” Player asked, impressed. “I’m the one that’s supposed to know things. That’s what I do. I hack and I know things.”

“They picked this airport for a reason. If what VILE is looking for came from Nashville, it would be easier to grab there; it’s a lot smaller. They’re getting it here because it’s the better choice, so it has to be from the busier airport.”

Player whistled. “Nicely done, Red. Atlanta just had a big power failure of their own a few months ago and added backup power lines, so they’d be ready for this kind of thing.”

“Also you can take  _ Game of Thrones  _ off the list. I binged it waiting for the shoulder to heal.”

Player laughed as Carmen crept through the shadowy lower level under the boarding gates. She strained to see the signs for Gate 21 without any lights on. It was the sound, though, that confirmed she was in the right place.  A voice that she could pick out of a crowd in an instant, much less the near-silent apron.

_ Gray. _

She could see his silhouette barely outlined against the tarmac. He was wearing heavy goggles over most of his face, and speaking in a low voice.  Even though it had been more than a year since they’d had a civil conversation, the sight still sent her heart racing. She’d missed him.

_ Maybe there’s a way to talk to him.   _ Maybe she could get him to see her point of view, in a way that she’d been too angry to do last fall.  _ Maybe this was a fresh start. _

“I’m checking the flight now.” Gray’s voice carried through the quiet cargo space. He then paused, but continued looking the baggage racks up and down. “Well, you should have upgraded the lenses to far-infrared when I told you t-”

He lifted a hand to his ear and winced in discomfort. Carmen was momentarily equal parts jealous ( _ a wireless earpiece)  _ and sympathetic ( _ Tigress could screech like no one else)  _ as he continued the conversation.

“You really wouldn’t want an x-ray that close to you face for an extended period of time, kitty cat. I have an extra set of thermal vision with me if you can’t handle it.”

Several dark colored blobs were at his feet, where Carmen assumed he had already checked and discarded them. The light of a plane in taxi briefly flashed over him, and Carmen spotting a visor that matched his hanging at his waist.

_ Thermal vision,  _ he’d said _.   _ It made sense, Carmen realized. They probably come with NVDs and thermal lenses to cover all conditions. Could she get close enough to lift it? Maybe. But if she wanted to talk to him,  _ really  _ talk, she’d have to get rid of the earpiece too.

“I think I know what VILE is after.” Player broke through he thoughts, and Carmen kicked herself for not telling him she’d spotted Gr-  _ VILE. _

 

[ _ Can’t talk now. _ ]

 

“No prob.” Player continued in a low volume. “I’ll make it quick. A passenger on the Atlanta flight works for Skysource, a company trying to create sustainable water supply from vapor. They’re trying to win an X prize worth almost 2 million dollars, but more importantly, the cost for clean water worldwide could go  _ way  _ down if they succeed.  According to a few calendars I hacked, he’s in DC to gain support on the hill for a big test his company is about to run next month, and brought a lot of his research and designs with him.”

_ Undoubtedly something VILE will want to steal and copy so they can hike up the price. _

Gray had opened and was now digging through a specific bag, and Carmen knew this was her chance. She slowly maneuvered her way behind him, trying to avoid his line of sight. With night vision on, all he needed was a glimpse of her. If he called for backup, it was over.  __

Just as he bent over to pull a sheaf of papers from a notebook in the lower part of the cart, she made her move and snagged the thermal lenses from his belt. It wasn’t her best grab, working in near-blinding darkness as she was, and Gray immediately stood up straight and spun around before she could go for the earpiece.

“Who’s there?”  His voice was low, and he did a pan of the loading area searching for movement. It was too late, though, as Carmen had already pulled on the thermal headset and hid behind an empty cart. She kicked out,  _ hard _ , and sent it flying straight at him.

He dove with a shout, and came up in roll facing her as she moved between him and the bag he’d been searching.

“We need to talk,  _ Crackle _ .”

He didn’t respond. Carmen was about to speak again when he leapt at her.

He wasn’t himself.  It was evident after his first strike; Carmen had spent hours upon hours in sparring matches with him, and she knew his best from...whatever  _ this  _ was. She easily dodged as his fist came at her in wide, slow arc.  Even considering that she probably had the better vision equipment on for a fight, he was  _ better  _ than this.

“Who  _ are  _ you?” Gray asked, his head slightly tilted in confusion.

She would have rather have been punched in the face, and stumbled back as though she had been.

It  _ crushed  _ her that he didn’t think, even for a moment, that she was capable of being here.   Any thought she’d had of trying to explain herself, of getting him to see her side, vanished.  

It hadn’t even been a year since she’d seen him last.  It had been  _ that  _ easy to forget her entirely.  She was no one to him.

“Just a professional thief.” Carmen paused.  _ She was every bit as good as he was. Better.  _ “Just like you.  And if you want  _ anything  _ from this bag, you’re going to have to go through me.”

 

* * *

_ VILE Academy, Isle of Vile _

_ July 6, 2018 _

 

Most of his fellow operatives enjoyed returning to the island. It meant two or three days of rock-star like fawning from the current students, not needing to maintain a cover identity for once, and of course, getting new caper information.

Gray generally  _ hated  _ the island and avoided it as much as possible.  From the tight knots that formed in his chest in the faculty room to the nausea that set in whenever he thought of the look on Black Sheep’s the last time she spoke to him in main hall, there wasn’t a single place that wasn’t full of tainted memories.

But it was, despite his best efforts, occasionally unavoidable. Such was the case today, where he was tasked to meet with Professor Maelstrom and Shadowsan about his next assignment.

This particular caper, an airport job, was exactly the kind of thing he loved; a huge technical challenge with tons of options for getting in and out.  It also made for a perfect mission for someone who could move in and out quickly, and lift small items from a bag without being seen. ( _ Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t ask.) _

“Crackle? Was there something else?” Professor Maelstrom's knowing voice cut through his racing thoughts.  He wanted to know about Black Sheep so  _ badly,  _ but knew neither of his former teachers would appreciate it. “No, sir.” ( _ Liar.) _

The professor reminded Crackle to provide an update within the next two weeks, and left.  Once he was left with just the stealth master, Gray continued.

“It’s just- The airport is a lot of ground to cover.” he began, “I’ll need some support. Someone fast and stealthy.”

“Tigress and Mimebomb will be made available to assist you.” Shadowsan stood dismissively, his face grim with warning, as the two of them walked out of the faculty meeting room.

Gray nodded. “But wouldn’t Black Sheep-”

“Do not question your orders, Crackle. Complete your mission. That will be  _ all. _ ”  The old man whisked himself back into his classroom. Gray was never exactly sure how the generally quiet man managed to close the paper thin door with such ferocity.

“It seems you’ve forgotten,” he muttered to himself, “ _ Black Sheep  _ was my-”

“You’re looking for Black Sheep?” a tiny girl with bright makeup and two-toned hair stood behind him, innocently blinking. It made Gray’s skin crawl.

“Yeah.” he nodded hesitantly. Why was there a student here in the middle of summer?  “Do you know her? She probably came by here, earlier over the summer, maybe?”

The little girl giggled, the sound high-pitched and better suited to someone much younger. “She was the nicest person I ever met. The others were all afraid to speak to me, but she wasn't afraid; she hated everyone just the same. I admired that.  Always shared her paper, too.”

“You were a student here last year.” Gray realized. The way she spoke was more than a quick greeting to an operative on assignment.

“And next year.” The girl nodded and smiled widely. “I failed my exams. Professor Maelstrom said the faculty voted that I was too violent and not  _ thoughtful  _ enough.”

Gray had only just met her, and was already pretty sure ‘not thoughtful’ was a polite way to say ‘crazy’. He’d had enough the unsettling little moppet and gestured to leave.

“Right, well, if she comes back-”

“She isn’t coming back, silly.”

“What do you mean?” His head snapped up with sharp look.

“I’m very sorry,” Her face twisted, like a tiny child trying to emulate a sad face without understanding it. A caricature of emotion. “But she tried to run away last December. Shadowsan ran after her. She made it out on the boat, but not before he wounded her. There’s no way she made it to a hospital in time. We had a big assembly about it. Black Sheep is dead.”

_ Dead. Dead. BlackSheepisdead. Deaddeaddead.  _ The word swirled around him, over and over until it was only a void stripped of all air and meaning.  _ Black Sheep is dead. _

Gray stopped breathing. Arguments raged in his head, thoughts so fast and painful he couldn’t bear to finish any of them. It had to be a lie. They were supposed to do this  _ together.   _ Just because he hadn’t heard from her in months, or seen any trace of her work, well, it didn’t mean...She’d been  _ angry  _ at him, that was all.  He would  _ know _ , if something like that had happened.  Someone would have told him. Or, he wouldn’t need to be told, he would just  _ know _ .  He wouldn’t have spent the last six months counting down days until graduation only for all the while...

_ Black Sheep is dead. _

...Right?

“She’s in a better place, now.” Voice dripping with false sweetness, the crazy girl moved to stand next to him.

Unable to force words, he only glared in reply.

“Well she hated  _ this  _ place. So anywhere has to be better, doesn’t it? Even death.” She skipped off, singing lightly.

_ No!   _

He lurched through the corridor and back into the main hallway, fighting to urge to vomit.

_ I want to know what the hell is going on with you...At least you’re here and not starving to death in the middle of God-knows-where. _

Those had been the last words he’d said to her. He’d been standing right here as he said them, Black Sheep looking for all the world like the words he’d spoken had taken form and cut her open.  He heaved again.

She’d wanted was an apology.  He’d been too angry at her inability to  _ see-  _ that her  _ life had been on the line _ \- and determined to make her understand that he’d been in the right.  ( _ What is your pride worth now?) _

He knew where he was going to end up, even though he lied to himself about it during the short walk. The dormitory looked much the same as it had the day he’d moved in; five dorm rooms, eight beds each.  Gray had been here just a couple of months ago, during a visit to discuss security updates with Countess Cleo. He’d taken Black Sheep’s  _ matryoshka  _ in a fit of childish pique- if she wouldn’t speak to him he knew she’d at least come after the dolls- but now he saw what he’d missed then.

The room stood empty, ready for the next batch of recruits to arrive. In May, it had looked entirely different, as the newly-minted graduates were getting their first assignments. Messy beds, uniforms strewn across the floor in favor of new stealth suits, personal items half-packed and ready to move on.

But not Black Sheep’s.  Her bed had been cold and immaculate. No suit, no bag. Even now, Gray could still see the faint places where he picked the dolls off her trunk were lightly coated over, the little circles where they’d stood outlined more heavily in dust.   _ No had touched it for months.  _  Black Sheep had never gone so much as day without brushing a hand over them at least once, as though she gained an inexplicable comfort from touching the burn marks.

_ She was really gone. _

Gray collapsed on Black Sheep’s former bed, hands gripping his hair to the point of pain as he shook.  ( _ All she had ever wanted to do was leave. She’d probably be alive right now if you hadn’t stopped her in Morocco. She’d be alive if you hadn’t set foot on this island. For all the time you spent trying to keep an eye on her, she’d have been better off without you. _ )

He lay there, unmoving, for some unknown amount of time. As he heard the helicopter landing for his return flight, Crackle stood up, pushed his mussed hair off his face, and left without so much a glance back.

 

_ (Black Sheep is dead.) _

 

* * *

 

_ Reagan National Airport, Washington DC _

_ August 15, 2018 _

 

“If you insist.” Crackle made a feint to his left, and tried to swing at her with the rod again. Carmen rolled to her right, trying to keep up a defense while keeping the bag in her sight. Her thermal vision was great for keeping track of Gray, but not so much for separating the dozens of pieces of luggage strewn around from their bout.

She finally managed to push Gray ( _ Crackle)  _ toward the edge of the apron, leaving him with little choice but to cut across the tarmac or abandon the bag and go back up the portage tunnel, when a bright spot appeared in motion on the edge of her visor.

Carmen spun and dove for the bag, just as Mimebomb pulled away with the notebook. She kicked his legs out from under him, sending both mime and notebook flying. Carmen reached for it, but it was tipped away from her and snatched by Gray, who smiled smugly behind his own goggles.  

“Sorry ‘bout that. Better luck next time, yeah?”

She was just about to respond when a truck full of heavy bags was upended in front of her, and Gray and Mimebomb took off running.  She followed immediately, darting around bags and carts with nimble jumps, and could Gray updating the others over their earpieces. 

The lights came back on just as they group hit the main terminal.  She knew they would try to split up and get her to follow only one of them.  Mimebomb, true to form, made a show of taking the notebook from Gray and hiding it in his shirt, while Tigress, sans uniform and instead wearing a long trench coat with a duffle bag, brushed past him in the main terminal.

Any thief worth her salt would have followed Tigress, but Carmen had the advantage of personal knowledge.  The only operative who would know  _ anything  _ about the feasibility of the research they had stolen would be Gray. If she could follow him, she might be able to steal it back before he could get a heads up to VILE.

He pulled on a blue hoodie and hid his equipment in a backpack as he walked in a measured step through the terminal to the metro station.  Carmen followed several yards behind, making sure the hood of her own jacket covered her face in case he turned around.

“Player, I’m back online and headed for the metro in pursuit of...VILE.”

“Sure thing, Red.  I’ll tap security cameras at the station. Who am I looking for?”

“In front of me. Brown hair, blue jacket.”   _ You know, my former best friend.  _ Carmen sighed and tried to roll her neck to relieve some of the tension there. She knew she hadn’t done a great job of explaining her relationship with Gray to Player even when she’d still been on the island, and didn’t really know how to fill in the gaps now.

Player, ever able to see her even when he couldn’t actually  _ see _ her, didn’t need it.

“He’s the guy, isn’t he? Your old ‘ _ best-school-friend’ _ . You said he was from  _ Down Under, _ ” Player accentuated this statement with a truly terrible Australian accent, “and I could hear a little bit over your phone.”

“Yeah.” She followed Gray into the Metro Station, and made sure to pick the next door in the same car as his. There was no way she could explain exactly how broken her and Gray’s relationship was to Player  _ and  _ keep her focus on this. “I...It’s...”

“Just be careful with this, ok?” Player asked gently. “I know there’s stuff you don’t want me to know about, and that’s cool. But we left the zombified-all-work-and-no-play-Carmen back in New Zealand, and I know things are getting to you when you start to sound like that again.  That Carmen is cool and all, but the current version is definitely the best one.”

Carmen was completely taken aback, but didn’t have time to respond anyway. They’d reached the next stop- Crystal City- and Gray was already getting off. She rushed to follow him, promising herself she’d find a way to explain her life story to Player somehow. Eventually. “It’s not that I don’t  _ want  _ you to know, it’s just...Hard to explain.”

Gray continued down 15th street, away from the metro station, only stopping for a moment to pull out his phone.  Carmen ducked behind some patrons waiting outside a bar as he did so. It was a video call, and even though she couldn’t see the screen, the voice carried well enough.

“Crackle? Have you completed your current assignment?” The crisp accent was unmistakable.  Gray was standing on the corner of the block, and Carmen sized up the handful of people around her.  They’d clearly been there much of the evening, having placed their belongings on one of the tall cafe tables nearby.   _ Purse, jacket, D.C United baseball cap, sunglasses…. _

“Just about, Dr. Bellum. I have the documents, I just need review-”

“Forget that.” Dr. Bellum cut him off. “It can wait until tomorrow. I need to you run a check on the security system at our safehouse nearby.  Either the two idiots dropping off some equipment early tonight didn’t reset it, or it’s malfunctioning. This is the highest priority. I will  _ very  _ unhappy if any of my toys are disturbed due to improper security.”

“I’m on it as soon as I drop the notebook. Send me the address.”  

_ Bingo.  _  This would be the perfect window- she could grab the notebook while Gray was fixing Dr. Bellum’s safehouse.  Carmen swiped the hat and sunglasses from the table, knowing she’d probably need to avoid showing her face. 

Gray continued into a modern-looking apartment building, but Carmen was afraid to follow further.  She was pretty good at being stealthy, but definitely not good enough to follow him onto an elevator and not be seen.  

“Already pulling up tenants, Carm.” Player’s timing was perfect.  “And you probably wouldn’t be surprised that unit 1717 is owned by our old friends at  _ Valuable Imports. _ ”  

 

* * *

 

_ Washington DC _

_ August 16, 2018 _

 

True to his easy going nature, Gray did not seem to feel Dr. Bellum’s urgent request was as imperative as she did.  Carmen watched the lobby for and signs of movement for a couple of hours, and was about to try and sneak in anyway, when he finally emerged from the lobby just after dawn. He looked like he felt better than she did.  

“Ok, he’s around the corner.” Carmen updated Player. “I’m going in.”

“I’ve got the building’s security footage up and running in a loop. If VILE tries to find out who was there after the fact, all they’ll see is a lot of nothing. But be careful once you’re inside; who knows what they’ve added.”

“Sure thing.”

It was laughably easy to pick the lock on the door; Carmen wasn’t sure if the battle of VILE-trained operative vs. VILE lock was always so pitiful, but was grateful she’d always had a knack for this kind of thing.

The apartment was  _ huge. _

“You know Player,” Carmen sighed with disappointment, “There are times when I’m forced to realize that crime really does pay.”

“Well it’s a good thing we’re around to pay it back.” Player offered.   

There were a series of red sensors across the bottom third of the entryway between the front door and living room. Carmen was just about to leap over it, when she realized it wasn’t right; this was much too obvious for Gray.  She stepped back and looked at the wall carefully, pulling the stolen thermal headset back on. Now, she could easily spot two smaller infrared beams, one above and one below. She slipped through the fake beams and held her breath, then exhaled slowly when no further alarms were triggered.

Gray had clearly been living here, at least temporarily, while planning the airport job. A bowl and spoon sat in the kitchen sink. One bedroom had his duffle bag and some clothing on the floor. Dozens of papers were pinned to the walls of den, with notes and highlights written over schematics for the airport power station and recovery generators.  She didn’t see the notebook, but Carmen activated the video chat on her newest phone, and held it up for player to take a look.

“Does any of this look useful to you?”

“Wow.  I mean, it’s not really my specialty, but that’s really thorough work, Red. I think- wait, go back!”  

Carmen had been slowly panning the den, trying to get images of everything on the walls, but reversed at Player’s request.  “This one?” It seemed like a fairly straightforward flight schedule to her, but…

“No- back in the living room! That’s  _ impossible. _ ”  The living room had little that caught Carmen’s eye. No artwork, or anything on the walls. In fact, there was only a large sectional sofa, a wide TV with some electronics attached, and a scattering of thin green boxes.

“ _ That’s Black Ops 4!”  _ Player’s voice had  _ never  _ been so excited, and Carmen wished she knew what the hell he was talking about.  She didn’t see anything about a Black Ops team? “He’s got  _ an Xbox _ with  _ an unreleased version of Call of Duty.  _ It doesn’t come out  _ until October.  _  How on earth does he  _ already have it?  _ I’ve been on the  _ waiting list _ for months.  _ Months, Carmen!” _

“Do- do you want me to take it?” Carmen offered tentatively. He seemed very much invested and it really was a very tiny box.

“Nooooo.” Player buried his head in his arms dramatically. “That’s an Xbox One X with an Ultra HD curved flat screen. I don’t have anything that can handle the HDR or 4K resolution like that. I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it knowing what I was missing out on.”   

“I’m full of sympathy.”  Carmen offered with a smile. “Or I would be, if any of that were important.”

“Sure, sure. Leave me to my jealous misery, please.” Player moaned, only half-kidding. “And you were right. I can see now why crime school was so tempting. Just know that Crackle has risen significantly in my estimation.”

“He’s got a thing about electronics.” Carmen agreed. “He was always working on building some new gadget or updating our-”

Carmen pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead in rebuke, then finished her own sentence.   _ Everything was right here!   _

“ _ Gear! _ ”

“Carmen?” Player’s confused question

“You said we can wipe VILE tech and then use it safely, right?  Like you did back when I had one of their phones?”

“Yup. Even though it was some of my finest work, you never reported my security breach, so getting through any of their online systems is a cinch.”

Carmen grinned as pushed open the door to the second bedroom.  It had a worktable in the middle with a familiar notebook, but was otherwise covered in an array of parts and wires. More importantly, a scattering of  _ very  _ familiar gadgets.  

A couple of phones. Some tracking devices. Some kind of trigger mechanism, maybe to crack a safe.  Dozens of screens and lenses that looked like they fit into some handheld devices nearby.  _ A wireless earpiece. _

“I think I have a solution to my hardware problem. I’ll call you when I’m out.”    

Gray’s black backpack was sitting on a stool nearby, and Carmen emptied it on the floor to use for packing up. She gave the pile of jettisoned papers a once over in case it was more stolen work, but a familiar title in Gray’s handwriting caught her by surprise.

_ The Black Sheep.  _ _ Full-field broadband invisibility. _

[ _ Crackle just got off the Metro. You have less than fifteen minutes to get clear.] _

A complex series of notes over a diagram filled the page beneath it.  Carmen could only understand bits and pieces.  _  Reversible wave frequency-spectrum control. Would need multipoint viewing angles not demonstrated by OPTICA.5.000779. _

What  _ was  _ this?

Her phone buzzed again.

[ _ Carmen?  Ten minutes.] _

Player’s update got her moving. She shoved the papers, notebook, and everything she could find into the bag. If disrupting VILE’s supply of new tech had the added benefit of outfitting her, well that was just the Red Hat way, wasn’t it?

[ _ GET OUT OF THERE.] _

She darted through the building lobby with just enough time to pull on her pilfered baseball cap and sunglasses before Gray reached the entrance. She could see him nearing the door; he was walking carefully, carrying a small white box with an open lid.  _ Something from Dr. Bellum’s safehouse, probably.    _

Carmen paused. Should she try to get it from him? The hesitation cost her precious seconds, and they arrived on opposing sides of the lobby door at the same time. Gray looked up and moved back a step. Carmen’s heart stopped beating.  _ If he saw… _

But he only stepped aside as he pulled open the door, and gestured for her to walk though. “Ladies first.”

_ Ever the gentleman, until you need his help.   _ Carmen pulled her sunglasses closer against her face, and hid the backpack behind her legs in way she hoped looked coy more than guilty.

_ It was now or never.  _ She stepped closer to him under the guise of sliding the backpack through the door, and took a peek inside the box.  Rather than some odd new invention, or experimental drug, it was….a cupcake?

Gray noticed her surprise, and mistook it.  

“It’s not my normal breakfast. Today is a birthday for a- a friend. Someone who’s gone.” His voice fell, and Carmen bit her lip to keep from comforting him and cursed herself for wanting to do so at the same time. He continued, but aimlessly speaking more to himself than to her. “Honestly, it probably would have been better if we’d never even met, but-”

He seemed to catch himself then, and shook his head. “But, the least I can do is celebrate, eh?”  

 

* * *

 

_ VILE Academy, Isle of Vile _

_ August 23, 2016 _

 

“Alright, losers,” Sheena called out as she entered the dorm. Gray and the quiet red-head kid from their class followed her carrying several boxes. “Just because we’re stuck in the middle of God-knows-where doesn’t mean I’m going to let you forget my birthday. We’re going to  _ throw down _ tonight.  It’s Sheena’s Birthday Party  _ island style _ . I invited everyone.”

“I’d be happy to throw you down.” Black Sheep grumbled. “I mean, what even  _ is  _ all this?”

“She’s the first one to have a birthday since we started.” Gray offered as he set down his boxes with a mysterious clanking of glass. He seemed like he was in his element, which was  _ exactly  _ the opposite of how she felt.  “It seemed like the right spirit to set the year off.”

“Why?” Black Sheep had seen plenty of dorm parties thrown by the academy students over the years, but the idea of putting on such a production for getting older was foreign to her.

“It’s fun?” He suggested, then look at her thoughtfully. “You’ve  _ never  _ had a big birthday?”

Black Sheep just shrugged to avoid giving a detailed answer. She knew she  _ had  _ one, of course, but didn’t have a very clear idea of when, so birthdays had mostly been limited whatever traditions her then-nanny brought along whenever the topic came up.

“Same for me.” Jean-Paul agreed with a nod, surprising her. In their first week of classes, he hadn’t seem to have a very high opinion of her.  “I’ve never seen such a thing.”

“Really?” Antonio asked. “I love birthdays. Big parties, lots of friends.  _ Sandwiches de miga  _ from the bakery...My aunts would always tug on my ear. You didn’t do any of that?”

“A birthday should be celebrated with family.” Jean-Paul argued. “This kind of event is better suited to a name day.”

“How about you, Gray?” Black Sheep cut in. “What are your birthdays like?”

“Stuff like this, mostly.” He gestured around their room, where Sheena and her silent follower were stapling giant cardboard letters to spell out her name on the long wall. 

“Dude, seriously?” Black Sheep raised an eyebrow.

Gray cringed a bit. “Well, not exactly like that. I mean I didn’t have a lot of the normal family thing, so I mostly just spent time with my friends.”

“It’s too bad  _ my  _ friends just want to sit around and chat when we have to be party-ready in an hour.” Sheena whined from her latest round of decorating. She eyed Black Sheep’s  _ matryoshka  _ dolls speculatively. “If you don’t have the best-ever present for me I’ll just have to steal one from you later.”

“I stole an  _ Audemars Piguet  _ Royal Oak watch for my grandfather’s birthday once.” Jean-Paul offered, then added somewhat sarcastically, “He was quite pleased, but I doubt I could meet that standard on short notice, your highness.”

But it got Sheena’s attention.

“Are you  _ kidding me _ ?” Her voice pitched in excitement. “Those are the most expensive watches in the world. I tried to make a lift at the boutique in Beverly Hills and couldn’t even get close.”

“Jules Audemars created the first ever minute-repeater watch movement.” Black Sheep was glad they were back on a topic she knew something about.

“I’ve never heard of it.” Antonio chimed in.

Sheena flicked the back of his head. “Then pay attention and maybe you’ll learn something important.   _ As _ I was saying:  _ presents, people.  _ Think big.”  She flounced out to go remind the other students of the same, and the four remaining all looked at once another.

“Any thoughts?” Gray asked. “We already raided the kitchen for snacks, but there wasn’t much. Short of stealing the boat or kidnapping a faculty member, I’m out of ideas.”

Black Sheep carefully locked away her dolls,  _ just  _ in case Sheena got grabby later. She tried to recall what she knew about birthdays from her nannies.  “Cake? That’s a birthday thing, right?”

The others all turned to look at her.  Antonio spoke first. “There are a lot of thing to like about this place, but the dessert isn’t one of them, Black Sheep.  I don’t think the kitchen even has cake.”

She grinned in return. “I wasn’t going to go to the kitchen. Coach Brunt always has a personal dessert supply in the faculty canteen.  If you can get the faculty to leave their wing, I know how to sneak in and take some.”

Forty-five minutes later, Gray and Black Sheep were huddled behind the hedge with half a dozen cupcakes, waiting for Coach Brunt and Dr. Bellum to finish lecturing Jean-Paul and Antonio on the importance of only setting things on fire during supervised class time.   

“Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” Gray mumbled as he ate half of a cupcake in one messy bite.

“I think you have a real problem remembering my name.” Black Sheep replied. She delicately peeled back the paper on one herself and took a lick of frosting. 

“You’ve  _ never  _ seen-” Gray cut himself off and gave her a sidelong glance. “Do you know Casablanca?”

“Don’t be stupid, of course I do. It’s the largest city in Morocco.”  He smiled at that, something honest and soft. Not the arrogant ass who’d made fun of her name on day one.  

“It’s also a movie.” He added, without judgement.

“I don’t watch a lot of tv.” Black Sheep explained quickly. “It’s not that weird.”

“Yeah it is.” Gray contended as he started in on his second cupcake. “But you know that’s ok with me, right? It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about yourself, but you don’t have to  _ pretend  _ so much. Don’t think I didn’t notice you avoided saying anything about  _ your  _ birthdays earlier and jumping on random watch history instead.”

Black Sheep carefully unwrapped the rest of her cupcake without looking at him.  There was no reason to trust him; she’d only known him for just over a week. But still...she didn’t have to explain  _ everything  _ to explain... _ something _ .

“I don’t have a birthday.” She finally admitted in a soft voice. “I mean, I don’t know when it is, so I just never...had one. I didn’t have a lot of the normal family thing either.”    

An arm fell around her shoulders and she looked up in surprise to find Gray smiling back at her. “So let’s pick one.”

“You want me to just...pick a random day to start throwing myself parties and demanding gifts?”

Gray laughed.  “Pick a day that you’ll remember. After we graduate, we’ll go get steal cupcakes on day that every year. Just tell me when.”

“This feels like a lot of pressure.” Black Sheep said cautiously, as she reached for another cupcake; they’d only have one left for their present, but that was becoming less and less important by the moment. “Today?”

Gray gave her a disbelieving look. “You want to share a birthday with Sheena for the rest of your life?”

_ Absolutely not _ . Black Sheep snorted behind her next bite of frosting. “I guess I don’t have a lot of really important days.”  Maybe the day she’d made her appeal to the faculty to attend the school? She’d been so nervous, it didn’t seem to fit.

There was a long moment of warm silence.

“I know what day you should pick.” Gray suddenly stated. Black Sheep looked up at him expectantly. “August 16th.”

“Orientation?”  _ That could work _ . “First day at the academy. That’s actually kind of perfect.”

“Of course it is.” He agreed. “It’s the day you met me!”

His smug expression was almost immediately ruined by the rest of Black Sheep’s cupcake shoved into face. He coughed for moment but it was all she needed to grab the last cupcake and take off for the dormitory, laughing all the while.

 

* * *

 

_ Washington, D.C. _

_ August 16, 2018 _

 

“Oh,” Carmen  _ meant  _ to make it a dispassionate, barely-questioning response, but couldn’t totally hide how stunned she was.

Maybe she wasn’t as important to him as he had been to her, maybe she never had been.

He regretted ever meeting her, but it couldn’t have been  _ nothing _ , not if he took the little bit of time to remember what today would have been, if...  Some part of the person she’d known, something that was still  _ Gray  _ more than  _ Crackle,  _ regarded her at least that much.

She hesitated, unsure if she should say more and risk revealing herself.  _ Tell him the truth. Make him understand. He’s still there. _

Gray smiled, and Carmen had felt compelled to continue. “It’s worth something, that you were remembering her today.  Even if-”

Before she could say more, Carmen’s phone buzzed.

_ [911. Remember those annoying kids from Boston? They need help, fast. Tickets loaded on your phone. The new one.] _

The reality check hit like a freight train. Gray-  _ Crackle- _ still worked for VILE.  She was literally carrying a bag full of things she’d looted from his apartment, including the notebook he’d stolen to sabotage a supplier of  _ clean water. _

_ What was she doing? _

“I have to go. I’m running late for my train.” Carmen apologized with a glare to her phone and then to the security camera in the lobby. “But I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

Gray called out when she was a dozen yards away. “Hey! I never got your name!”

She didn’t stop walking, but twisted a bit to reply over her shoulder. Answering him was a bad idea.  _ What was she doing? _

“It’s Carmen!”   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the notes are on science. VILE might do a lot of cartoon science, but we live in a world where there are a lot of amazing real things:-)
> 
> Thermal vs NVD lens: In this case, Gray is using both for different reasons. Night vision devices often work by essentially adding photons to enhance what you see, where thermal vision recreates an image based on infrared light emitted by different objects. Depending on what you are looking for, at or though, the different technologies have different advantages, so a good tech-thief would have both!
> 
> Skysource: A combined team from Skysource/ Skywater Alliance did in, fact, win this X prize for creating drinkable water from vapor in October 2018, after it completed a major test in September. 
> 
> Full-field broadband invisibility: This is actually a thing! A team from Montreal published this paper in June of 2018. The actual science referenced is accurate, and the OPTICA number is a reference you can google for the whole paper:-)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay on this chapter! I aim to get them out every two weeks, but real life got in the way. I'll work on getting chapter 5 out faster! Please enjoy this next part, as things start to align to get us in shape for some of the events mentioned in the first episode. As promised, more Ivy and Sheena in this chapter and as such, there's some use of profane language, as young adults tend to do.
> 
> Enjoy!

_New York City, New York  
_ _August 17, 2018_

“How did you even know about these kids anyway?” Carmen whispered as she carefully tucked in her new earpiece. She’d been watching the long deserted storefront address Player had given her for hours and was just about at the limit of her patience.  “I didn’t even meet them until way after I dumped my old phone with the hard drive.”

“Uh, well…You see, a funny thing about Boston.” Played said slowly, “It’s got a lot of security cameras. And I, uh, may have tapped a few of them. And run, like, a teensy bit of facial recognition to make sure that Haber wasn’t following you. Or any of those cops. Or those two kids.  That’s sort of how I found out about this.”

“You were _spying on me!_ ” Carmen accused him with a smile he couldn’t see.  

“I was _worried!_ Those kids are sketchy, and you were being chased, and I didn’t-” It had been a long time since Carmen could count on someone having her back ( _not that history hadn’t proven she really_ should _have counted on Gra- well, that was neither here nor there.)_ and she appreciated that even being alone didn’t mean abandoned. For the most part.

 

“Player? Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Red.”

“But don’t _ever_ do that again. A lady needs her... _privacy_.”

“Ugh, you _had_ to make weird, didn’t you?”

 

A chip in the painted-over windows of the storefront revealed slight movement inside for the first time that night, and Carmen moved toward the entrance. “You wouldn’t listen if I didn’t.” Her smirk faded as a high-pitched cry rang out through the alley.  “Stand by, I’m going in.”

Player’s camera scan had picked up the twins once again as they were ransacking the same donut shop Carmen had met them in almost two months ago. Normally that wouldn’t really be enough to take her off course- Carmen saw and generated plenty of crime on her own- but it definitely met the bar when two men in gray coveralls and Dash Haber showed up to stop them, rather than the police.  

Top tier felons, these were not. Carmen spent the train ride watching Player’s playback of a rough, sloppy fight, where the pair were ultimately subdued by VILE’s henchmen. Just before the morning deliveries were made at the donut shop, the kids were bundled up in supply boxes and tossed into the back of a waiting truck.

 _One of these days she’d have to learn how to drive._  It would make following bad guys a lot easier than having to jump on a train every time she had to run to a new city.  In this instance, it had been a literal jump, as she’d cut it pretty close.

In either case, they’d managed to track the truck to a row of long-empty storefronts in New York City (“It’s technically leased to about four different shell companies, but guess who the ultimate landlord is? Go on, guess.” Player had offered. “I don’t understand why a company with so many assets even _does_ crime, sheesh.”) and although Carmen didn’t mind doing reconnaissance, she knew whatever VILE had in store for the twins couldn’t be good.

Carmen slipped around the back of the building, carefully counting off entrances to match the window with movement in the front. She pressed an ear to metal fire door, straining to hear anything from inside.  There was low painful moan- _the boy, Zack-_ followed by a slightly higher pitched plea to stop.  

 _No time to waste_.

Carmen steadied her hand and made short work of the heavy lock on the door.  With a quick run and jump, she threw her weight against it, and it flew open with a bang.

The girl- _Ivy,_ Carmen recalled- was bound to a rickety-looking chair facing the door.  Her face was smeared with dirt, but two clear streaks of tear-tracks ran down either side of her face. She must have been straining against the cord, because as soon as Carmen burst in, she gasped in surprise and shrunk back.

The man in the middle of the room swung a baseball bat toward Carmen, but she’d trained against that type of attack far too many times. She thrust one hand upward to catch the bat at the base, and pushed her attacker off balance with a quick blow to the side of the knee. With a twist of her wrist, Carmen rolled the bat into her own hand, and glanced up at a still-terrified Ivy before she tightened her grip determinedly and swung the bat down.  It landed with sick crack on her opponent’s head, and he dropped to the floor.

It was only then that she realized he wasn’t the only one- a mop of red hair lay on the ground nearby, unmoving.

“They wouldn’t stop,” gasped Ivy. “I tried to- we don’t have _anything._ I don’t know what they were talking about. But they wouldn’t stop. Oh, God, _Zack._ ”  

“We’ll get him to a hospital.” Carmen replied gently. He _looked_ pretty bad, with blood covering most of his face and several darkening bruises scattered all over. She put a hand to her ear to reactivate the earpiece. “Player, can you…?”

“On it, Red.”

Carmen hummed in acknowledgement, and then stood to cut Ivy loose.  She jumped up, then immediately collapsed to the ground next to her brother with a fresh sob. Carmen knelt next to her, gently feeling for a pulse. _Slow but steady._ “His pulse is ok, but his breathing sounds ba-”

“ _Oh, no, you don’t!”_ In a flash of red to her left, Ivy sprang off the ground.  Carmen spun on her knee just in time to see Ivy tackle the second man in coveralls, who had somehow come up behind them unnoticed.  He had clutched the discarded bat in his hand, but was now struggling in the face of Ivy’s brute force. She sat sprawled over his chest, fist pounding with each word. “ _What! Do! You! Want! What! Did! We! Do-”_

Carmen carefully moved behind her, caging her frantic arms in a bear hug as she tried to calm her. None of her training had covered this. Tactics, yes; combat, sure; but Carmen had always _had_ that training to fall back on.  For better or for worse, first instincts when in danger were how to use her abilities to gain advantage, to accomplish her goals.   

She’d never _fought for her life_ , as Ivy now desperately was.

“Ivy.” Carmen tried to plea, “ _Ivy!  Stop!_ It’s over. He’s _out_. We have to help Zack.”

Ivy choked out one final sob and nodded, rolling herself to her feet.  Carmen grabbed the discarded cord from where Ivy had been restrained, and quickly bound hands and feet of the two other men.

If they were both here, then there was no time to wait on an ambulance.  Haber would want an update to report back to Cleo, and if he didn’t get it, there was no telling what kind force would arrive next.

Carmen looked around, hoping a plan would form itself. Ivy was still on the floor trying to rouse Zack, but there was little else in the room, and no time or safe way to explore.  

_What to do?_

“We have to get him back to Boston,” Ivy broke through her thoughts. “We have a doctor there we can take him to see. Going to a hospital is the bigger risk.”  Zack, who _had_ apparently awakened, nodded ever-so-slightly.

Ivy’s face took on the expression that Carmen remembered from a donut shop months ago- full of honesty- and she couldn’t find it in herself to argue.  She quickly pulled a set of keys from the man on the floor in front of her.

“I don’t suppose to you know how to drive that truck outside?”

Despite _everything_ about the situation, Ivy grinned. “I’m a _great_ getaway driver.”

They pulled out of the back alley just as the ambulance arrived.

 

* * *

 _Boston, Massachusetts  
_ _August 18, 2018_

 

The clinic that Ivy pulled into did not seemed surprised to pull a near-comatose young man from the back of a bakery truck, and Carmen tried to avoid asking too many questions about that until they knew how Zack was doing.

“Mob doctor.” Player chimed in with a singsong voice in her ear. “Bet you anything that’s why she didn’t want to go to a hospital. Be careful, Carm.  None of this adds up.”

Despite its gaps, _organized crime_ had been a surprisingly detailed part of her education (though Professor Maelstrom warned them against become “too pretentious” if any student considered running their own syndicate as a career goal:  “Never lose the touch yourself. That’s how they get you.”).

“I don’t know,” Carmen considered the dimly lit room and cracked linoleum. “This looks a little low rent to generate that kind of cash.”

“What do you wanna do about her? She’s gonna crash any minute.”  Player’s voice over the earpiece confirmed what she was seeing in person.  Ivy had shaved a good portion of the travel time by relentlessly speeding with a focus that Carmen hadn’t seen outside of her find-the-dollar-in-the-coat days.  But her mission now accomplished, Ivy _was_ looking pale and shaky.  

“Ivy?” Carmen called out softly, approaching from her line of sight. “Ivy, you shouldn’t be here alone. is there someone I should call? Family, or…?”  Ivy looked up from the floor with a steady glare.

“No.”

 _Oh_ .  Carmen certainly understood that, but didn’t really know what else to say.   _Can I do anything_ seemed trite. _It will be okay_ was almost certainly a lie. _I’m sorry_ was completely true but equally useless. Finally, she settled on “I’ll figure this out, Ivy.  I know who did this and I’ll do everything I can to stop them.”

Ivy nodded as though she was listening, but her response was off-time. “I’m not, you know.”  Sensing Ivy was working through her thoughts, Carmen was silent as she continued. “Alone. I’m not alone.  Zack and I have always been a team. And even if he’s hurt, it doesn’t mean-” Ivy clamped a hand over mouth to hide a sob.  A minute later she sat up, stone faced once again.

“I’m not alone.” she repeated. “He’s my brother, so I’m not alone even if he isn’t right _here_ , y’know? _”_

Carmen glanced at her phone and put her hand over one of Ivy’s.  “I know _exactly_ what you mean.”

An elderly nurse came through a set of double doors, and gestured for Ivy to join her.  Ivy stood with a tremble, and Carmen, uncertain exactly what sort of conversation this would be, turned to give them some privacy.  

“I can’t find any licensed doctor at your address, Carmen. This place is sketchy as hell.” Player’s voice popped back on as soon as Ivy moved.

“They seem to know Ivy well enough.” It wasn’t a defense and they both knew it. “I can’t just leave them like this. Someone from VILE could come back.”

“The ambulance picked up the two flunkies, but no sign of Haber.” Player offered. “But if he brings reinforcements after them, you might be better off going to ground.”

“What’s VILE doing in the donut business anyway? Seems like a lot of trouble over a botched robbery.”

Player huffed in exasperation. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!  You _saw_ the footage; the day Ivy and Zack broke in, they weren’t robbing it.  They tossed the office and the register, but didn’t take any cash. They were looking for something else. That store is reporting _way_ more income than it actually makes. It was practically empty the day you were there, but they are constantly recording major cash transactions. Something about this is majorly fishy, Carmen.”

Carmen tried to think through what she remembered from Professor Maelstrom’s lecture on diabolical accounting. “Recording paper transactions is a bad idea, isn’t it? Not the best way to hide your money.”

“It is if you’re trying to launder cash instead of hide it.”

 _Set your sights higher than pulling pranks or picking pockets,_ Cookie Booker had told her, _white collar crime is where to real money is_.  

 _Of course_ , VILE would have a larger financial operation than just a ledger on a hard drive!

“Then we have to go back.” Carmen whispered determinedly. “This means maybe we don’t need to hack the hard drive to find evidence of VILE!”

Ivy walked back up to her just then, looking worn-out but calm.  When she spoke, her voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper. “He’ll live. It’s bad, but he’ll live. Buncha broken ribs, tailbone, leg. Punctured lung. Concussion.”

Carmen let out a heavy breath and jumped to give Ivy a hug. “He’ll be ok, that’s what matters,” she added with a smile. “But Zack’s a pretty tough customer, so it’s no surprise.”

Ivy gave what was supposed to be nod, but in her exhaustion was little more than a tip of her head. “Listen, they want to move him to a hospital downtown as soon as he’s stable. I need to go by our place grab his ID and some...other stuff.” Carmen kept her expression neutral. “We don’t exactly have a lot of transportation options, but if you need me to drop the truck anywhere…”

“VILE will be looking for that one.” Player offered with pointed cheer over her earpiece. “If you’re going to get kidnapped by a member of the mafia, I can recommend a nice sports car parked three blocks away owned by a landlord that has six HUD complaints.”

 

* * *

 _Boston, Massachusetts  
_ _August 19th_ _, 2018_

 

“This is nice.” Ivy whistled from the driver’s seat of the sleek car. She gave Carmen a sidelong glance. “I’m not sure how much I should ask about it, though.”

“Not a lot.” Carmen smiled. “But it’s definitely in better hands now than it was.”

“What’s your deal, anyway?” Ivy finally asked. “You saved my life, my brother’s life. You had every chance to walk away instead of wait for hours at the clinic. Is this some kinda ‘ _someday, and that day may never come, I will call upon you to do a service for me.’_  shit I’ve gotten myself into? Did one of your relatives get married yesterday?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  Carmen wrinkled her nose. “The people who tried to hurt you? They do that a lot. I want to stop them.”

Ivy nodded but didn’t say anything else.  As she turned onto the freeway, Carmen finally broke the silence. “What’s _your_ deal? You’ve been to that donut store before, I remember. This wasn’t a run-of-the-mill robbery, was it?’

“It’s our Dad.” Ivy admitted. “He’s not _great_ , y’know? But he’s all we’ve had since we were eight.  He was _there._ Most of the time, at least.” 

“He...died?” Carmen guessed. But Ivy only shrugged.

“He disappeared, last December. Just got a phone call and ran out the door. Never came back.” Ivy paused to curse at several vehicles that had the audacity to drive at what Carmen thought was a perfectly reasonable speed. “We didn’t worry at first; he’s done that a few times. But he _always_ called and he _always_ came back in a few days.  So when he didn’t, we started looking for him.”

“At the donut shop.” Carmen added.

“At a bunch of places.” Ivy confirmed. “Look, you’re not stupid. Zack and I pick locks and steal cars. You beat the hell out people, and I don’t even know what else. Our Dad ran suitcases of money from one storefront to another.  Let’s just stop pretending we’re on the up and up.”

 _Ivy and Zack’s Dad worked for VILE?_ Carmen nodded in encouragement to hear more. “I also pick pockets and talk to a video-game obsessed teenage boy in my ear.”

 _“_ Hey now,” was Player’s vaguely offended response. “You’re not wrong, but rude!”

“Right.” Ivy did not appear to find this strange in the least. “So like I said, our Dad was usually around, and for a while, when we were younger, he sometimes took us with him.  I guess it sold the image; harried upstanding suit-wearing businessman buys his kids a donut, or a pizza, and they distract everyone by running around. So we knew three or four of his regular stops, and figured _someone_ would know where we went.  But every time we went, even when it was people we’d known for years, they acted like they didn’t remember us at all. Like we’d never met. Eventually we got tired of trying and decided to look for ourselves.”     

“How many other places have you searched?” Carmen asked urgently. _Could Ivy already have the evidence they needed to put VILE away?_

Ivy winced. “That was the first. We upgraded from storefront distraction to getaway drivers awhile back, but sneaky was never our style.”

“Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

“What?”

 

* * *

 _Ivy and Zack’s House_  
_Boston, Massachusetts  
_ _August 19th, 2018_

 

“This should only take a few minutes.” Ivy explained as she opened the door on an aging townhouse.  “I just need his ID and some paperwork that can get him admitted to a hospital. We didn’t take much with us the night that...”

Carmen quickly nodded, not needing more details. She glanced behind them as she followed Ivy through the door, but ran straight into the redhead, who had stopped cold in the threshold.  

“Who’s there?”  A tall, older man in a trim suit stood inside, pointing a firearm at them. “How did you get in here?”

“ _Dad?”_ Only because she was so close, Carmen could see the ever-so-faint tremble that ran through Ivy’s shoulders.  “ _When- How?!”_ She was shaking her head, like the words didn’t even make any sense.  

“I got no clue what kind of trick you’re looking to play, sweetheart, but my kids are eight and live with their mom. You definitely aren’t one of them.”  He had dark hair and the beginnings of wrinkles forming at his mouth, but something about the way he stood reminded Carmen very much of Ivy.

Ivy reached her hands out, in an attempt to explain. “ _Dad!_ I’m Ivy. I’m your _daughter._ Zack and I lived with _you!”_

“Get _out_ before I lose my temper. I don’t know how you know those names, but I swear to God if you’ve done anything to my kids...”  He pointed his weapon at Ivy and Carmen once again.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Ivy continued. “Dad! You really don’t recognize me at all?”

The man’s wrist tightened, and Carmen knew they’d reached the edge of his patience. She didn’t know anything about Ivy’s family, but his eyes were startlingly empty of... _anything._   

She looped an arm over Ivy’s shoulder and pulled her back through the door. “We’re very sorry. We didn’t mean any offense. Wrong door.” Carmen hastily apologized. “She’s had a family emergency today and is a little confused. We’ll leave.”

The two managed to stumble back down the front steps and Ivy didn’t speak as she rolled over the engine of the car and beat a hasty retreat away from her home. She managed to pull the car onto a side street a few blocks away before she killed the engine and lights.

 _“What the hell was that?”_ Ivy turned to face Carmen.  “Hands down, this has been the worst week of my life, and I can’t _even explain what the hell just happened._ How did my Dad just completely forget almost a decade of my life? _”_

“I don’t know.” Carmen offered weakly. “I’ve never seen anything like that.” 

_“_ The people who you talked about. They did this, didn’t they?” Carmen could tell Ivy already knew the answer, so she didn’t mince words.

“Yes.” Carmen couldn’t explain how or why, but she was positive about the _who_. “I recognized one of the men involved in your fight at the donut store. I think maybe your Dad worked for them, too.”

“And now they’ll be after me an’ Zack.” Not a question, this time, just cold realization from Ivy.  “I can never come back here. God only knows what they’d do to him next.”

“Ivy, I’m working on a way to stop them. If we can shut them down, everyone will be safe.” Carmen glanced softly in the rearview mirror, double checking they hadn’t been followed from the house. “If you remember _anything_ about the places your Dad worked, it might help.”

“I can make a list.” Ivy nodded. “On one condition.”

Carmen raised an eyebrow and waited for her to continue.

“I want in.”

 

* * *

 _Massachusetts General Hospital  
_ _August 24th, 2018_

 

“So you’ll be in the record system but I’ll keep changing the name.” Player’s voice didn’t travel far in the small room, but it didn’t need to go far. Ivy was leaning over almost out of her seat, and the phone itself was on the nightstand next to Zack’s bed. Carmen sat in the chair on the other side of the nightstand.

“You can just... _do_ that?” Zack asked. “That’s wicked cool. I should learn how to do that.”

“You have enough to do just trying to _walk_ again, little bro.” Ivy scolded. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“She’s right.” Carmen interrupted. “Doc says another week post-op in the hospital, and three months physical therapy after.”

“You’re both ganging up on me.” Zack complained from the bed. “It’s unfair. Have some respect for the almost-dead!” Ivy and Zack began bickering over the nature of ‘almost-dead’, and Carmen took the opportunity to sneak out of the room with the phone.  

“Any luck on the locations Ivy gave you?” Carmen was all business once she was in the hallway. “The storefront in New York was already toast, but the three others might be good leads.”

“We already knew about the donut shop, I tracked what she remembered to a pizza place in Cambridge and a dry cleaner downtown. They both fit the same profile: a lot of cash on the books. But based on the fact that they torched the store in New York, and Ivy and Zack didn’t turn up anything at the bakery, I’m not sure there’s a lot to find. I don’t think sticking around here is a good idea.”   

“She said when they went there, no one remembered them.” Carmen continued on while taking a drink of coffee. “VILE may have already done whatever they did to their Dad, but some records or other proof might still be there.”

“Erasing memories is weird business.” Player agreed. “Do you think there’s any chance he was faking it? Or maybe he was just surprised after coming home from a long vacation?”

Carmen considered it, but shook her head even though Player couldn’t see it. “I don’t think so. The look in his eyes was...completely blank. I’ll never forget it. He had no clue. And the timing was too perfect.”

“It fits-” Player cut himself off. “Never mind. I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“ _Play_ er.” Carmen said nothing else and waited him out.

“The timing _is_ pretty perfect.  Right after the only two people who asked any questions slip through their fingers, Dad shows up again as proof of what happens to people who get caught?”

Carmen saw through his excuse immediately. “That what I just said. What were _you_ going to say?”

“It’s just an idea,” Player sighed unhappily, “But if he _did_ work for VILE, especially on the finance side, it would make a lot of sense. He went missing last December right after the bookkeeping hard drive was stolen, and then everyone else involved also seems to lose their memories…VILE probably took out the whole channel. You might want to back off this or we’re going to raise a lot of alarms.”   

Carmen’s coffee hit the floor, but she didn’t notice the puddle. Everything around her ground to a halt. “This is all my fault.”

“Carmen, that’s not what I’m say-”

“I’m the one that took the hard drive. I started all of this.”  

Player hadn’t wanted to start this conversation, knowing that Carmen would blame herself. But he still felt compelled to try and get her to see reason. “He was a _criminal_ Carmen. He knew what he did was dangerous.  And VILE is responsible for their own actions, not you.”

“We have to put them out of business.” Carmen stated flatly, and Player knew any number of reasons why she shouldn’t blame herself would go unheard. “Waiting to prove VILE exists to anyone else will take too much time; I can’t just let this happen.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re saying? You’re talking war with VILE. Are you ready for that?”  

_You’re just a kid, you have no money, no connections…_

_Set your sights higher than pulling pranks and picking pockets…_

_You happen to be unruly, undisciplined…You’ll have your chance, next year._

It was true, that most of people that had a hand in creating Black Sheep had been able to get the best of her.  But she was Carmen Sandiego now, and VILE had been allowed to run free for too long.

“Yes. I am.”

 

* * *

 _Dunkin Donuts, South Boston, Massachusetts  
_ _September 10th, 2018_

 

“There’s nothing here.  Just the staff schedule and some time-off requests.  The office has been stripped entirely clean.” Carmen reported.  She hadn’t expected much else. “I don’t even see any suspicious transactions on the bank deposits.”

“Didn’t think there would be, Red I’ll download the transaction history just in case, but this is a waste of time.”

Player must be having an especially bad day, Carmen thought, he was usually more game to investigate.

A few boxes of day-old donuts sat in a pile marked for the next day’s early shift. Even though she knew she’d regret it, if it got Player out of funk then...Carmen took a bite.

“Ugh. Just so you know, these donuts are _still_ terrible. They taste like...fish.”  That should give him plenty to tease her about, right?

“You knew that. Let’s move on.”

Well, that was the last straw. “Ok, what’s the deal? You’ve been sulky all night.”

“Why don’t you go play with your new friends, then? They’re obviously more fun than I am.” The reply was surprisingly vehement, and caught Carmen completely off guard. “Forget it. Call me after you’ve staked out the next place.”

He disconnected, and Carmen was left agog.   _What just happened?_

[ _Player?_ ]

[ _I am a master of ignoring texts. Don’t think you’ll put me off._ ]

[ _Tell me what’s wrong._ ]

[ _It’s nothing. Sorry I blew up._ ]

[ _It’s not nothing. If you’re not ok I’m not ok._ ]

 

* * *

 _All Star Pizza, Cambridge, Massachusetts  
_ _October 12th, 2018_

 

“I’m pretty sure this pizza tastes exactly like one of VILE’s donuts.  How is that _even_ possible?” Carmen had endured a lot of painful things in both her Vile Academy training and living on her own since, but hanging out at VILE’s front-restaurants until closing time was up there with the worst of them.  

“Well, if they were good at it, there wouldn’t be a need to turn to crime.” Player reasoned. ”You know, if the whole ‘Red Hat’ thing doesn’t work out, you could always start a food blog. I, for one, would line up for pizza-flavored donuts.”

“The superior choice is _clearly_ donut-flavored pizza. And pass.” Carmen replied into her phone, glad for the lighthearted conversation. “I’ll leave the food reviews to Zack.  I admit I feel bad leaving them alone, but it is nice to get some fresh air.”

“Yeah, you’ve been taking of care of him and Ivy both pretty much nonstop.” Player responded in an oddly level voice. Carmen instantly noticed.

“Player?”  

“Forget it. The next guy up should be your man.”

Carmen took another bite of pizza- this one tasted vaguely of….socks? - and watched the next customer in line slip carefully behind the register with a large black duffle bag. She ducked in behind him, and he was unconscious on the floor in seconds.

“Definitely still up to sketchy business here, Player.” Carmen whistled as she examined the pages from the man’s notebook. “I’ve got some account numbers for you.”

Carmen snapped a few photos of the ledger in the office behind the kitchen, and Player wasted no time in draining them.  “Payday! Alright.” he sang. “I might be able to finally afford that new _Call of Duty_.”

“We’re only keeping what we _need._ Donate the rest to the hospital. Not everyone can blank a bill like you can.”

“ _Caaar_ men.   _Call of Duty in 4k._ I’ve been waiting for this since _summer._ ”

“ _Fine.”_ Just this once time, it couldn’t hurt, right? It’s not like she was constantly going to buy extravagant gifts, and Player clearly needed some cheering up. “You can get _one_ new computer-gamey thing.”

Twenty minutes later, Carmen was walking down the sidewalk with duffle bag of cash slung over her shoulder, the bagman was tied up on the curb, and the notebook and accounting documents were a smoldering pile of ash.

 

* * *

 _Clever Cleaners, Boston, Massachusetts  
_ _November 10th, 2018_

 

“You _have_ to take me in with you.” Ivy hissed with a nod to Zack napping in the cramped backseat. “He’s driving me _crazy._ I’m going to join VILE just so I can get credit for _murdering him.”_

“I’m not even _going_ in.” Carmen exclaimed. “There is a _lot_ more going on at this place than the others. Something is happening. We’re just trying to see we can recognize any of the guys in these photos as repeat customers.”

“You _said_ I could help.” Ivy whined.

“You drove here.” Carmen reminded her. “And you’re helping watch.”

“She’s got a point, Red.” Player’s voice chirped over her earpiece. “You have a lot of very impressive skills, but you sort of suck at letting people help you.”

“Wow, I’m getting it from all sides today.” Carmen leaned back in her seat dramatically. “I’m trying to keep all of you _alive and in your right minds.”_

“Yeah, yeah” “Yeah,yeah” Identical annoyed responses came back to her in stereo. Carmen had been trying to keep Player happy, Ivy from running headfirst into a VILE hideout, and Zack from getting re-hospitalized for nearly three months, and she’d _had enough_.

“Ok, what is _with everyone_ ?”  The temper that had once pulled Gray over a chair when he mocked her name now focused itself on those before her- physically or otherwise. “What we are doing is _dangerous._  So take whatever attitude you want, but it won’t change my mind. You could all _die_ . I’ve lost basically everyone who has ever been important to me until now, but I’m not _about_ to lose any of you.”

Silence. Ivy shifted in her seat. Zack jolted awake with a confused expression. Carmen listed to her words echo in her mind.  They sounded painfully familiar.

_I kept you safe. And even if it means you’ll never speak to me again, I don’t regret it._

...

...

 

Well, _damn_.

 

“I’m sorry.” Ivy broke the silence. “It’s just- You’re so good at this, you and Player both.  I have no idea what I’m doing most of the time, but I don’t want you to think you have to hold back for my sake.”

“And I’ve just been a huge pain the ass.” Zack added. “But now that I’m back to one hundred percent, you better believe I’m all in.”

“You’re a pain in the ass anyway.”  Ivy glared. Carmen smiled despite the seriousness of the moment.

 _“_ I’m sorry, too.” Player’s voice came over the car stereo instead of Carmen’s earpiece, and all three of the occupants jumped. “Bluetooth, guys, c’mon.”

“I...I was jealous.” He continued. “It took _so_ long just to let me help _at all,_ and every time it looked like you were going to make it here, something went wrong. But then as soon as Zack and Ivy wanted in, you couldn’t wait to stay in Boston and start a new team.”

“This is all my fault.” Carmen offered. “I should never have let any of you feel like that.  I’ve been on the other side, and it’s terrible.”

 

“Stop _doing_ that, Carmen.” Player argued. “Not everything is your fault. We’re all here because we want to help, and we believe in you. No one here is blameless. I should have just been honest with you when you asked.”

“He’s right.” Ivy added. “We follow your lead. If you need a driver, I’m happy to do it. It’s not like Zack and I have a lot to lose, here.”

“Which is _why_ we’re not going to Ontario. The less VILE knows about who is involved in this better. _Not_ just for your sake or your family, Player,” Carmen cut off his expected retort, “but it’s to all our benefit. We won’t have the element of surprise for long, so we should try keep what we can under our hat. It’s too late for the rest of us, but If Player can stay off their radar, then it stays that way as long as possible, ok?”

“Deal.”

“Gotcha.”

“Zack, get in the driver’s seat. You’re in charge of getaway.  Ivy, follow me. I’m going to show you how to disarm that guy who just went it.  Player, stand by for the account numbers, and try to shut off any surveillance cameras inside.”

There was a flurry of activity, both in the car and over the call.

 _This might actually work_ , Carmen realized.  They might _actually_ get the best of VILE.

“Did I miss something?” Zack’s confused voice interrupted her. “I feel like I missed something.”

_Eventually._

 

* * *

 _VILE Academy, Isle of Vile  
_ _December 1, 2018_

 

It was Sheena, in the end, who sent the message to the rest of them.

_[Class reunion on Saturday.  Meet on the island by the docks or else.]_

No one else was going to do anything, and even though Black Sheep had been an annoyingly naive stitch in her side for the better part of a year, she’d still... _been_ there. And now she wasn’t.

So someone should do something, and as with most things, it fell to Sheena to actually get it done.

 

Mimebomb was easily found at the academy already. Black Sheep’s life _and death_ had left many permanent marks, but the need to keep sharper eyes and ear on the machinations of the student body was one of the easiest to see in action.

Jean-Paul and Antonio were unsurprisingly on assignment together, but Sheena knew they would be amenable to the idea. Antonio had liked Black Sheep, and Jean-Paul liked social formalities where he wasn’t expected to make a lot of jokes.    

Crackle, disgustingly moody thing that he was these days, had been bound and determined to ignore her, and if she were anyone else, he might have gotten away with it.  But she wasn’t Tigress for nothing, and it had been many a year since nature had thrown a man in her path that she wasn’t able to get the better of in one way or another.

That was it, really. Of the forty people that had been in their class, only sixteen had become operatives. Just eight of them had shared all their classes and a dorm room; two had washed out before the first month was up, and that just left of the five of them as... _friends,_ for lack of a better word.

(She needed to find a better one.)

So there he was, standing next to a eager-looking Antonio and lightly scowling Jean-Paul. Mimebomb stood on Sheena’s other side, and held up an imaginary glass.

“We’re doing a toast.” She declared, holding up a real flask of her own. “In honor of Black Sheep.”

A confused look went around the group.  Gray finally said the thought out loud, although he had to clear his throat a few times before his voice would work. “I have to admit, you were the last person I’d expect to get nostalgic, kitty.”

“Honor among thieves.” Sheena retorted, taking a swig from the flask and passing it on. “Have some respect for the dead, you ass.”

As they each took a drink- Gray refused to move to take it, so Antonio took two and passed it on- Sheena spoke again, in a quieter voice. “We knew what we signed up for.  Walk away from everything and everyone in your life, gain skills and riches and power you could have only dreamed of.”

Sheena felt certain each of them had heard something similar; those had been almost the exact words that Shadowsan had used to recruit her.  It hadn’t taken much more than that.

 _It’s a life few can manage_ , Shadowsan had said, _even fewer are young women. I’m looking for someone who can turn that to their advantage. Many will underestimate you._

 _Many already have,_ she’d replied without hesitation, _but I’m still here._

 

She’d been a teenage girl making her trade off shoplifting from overpriced boutiques in Beverly Hills and pickpocketing drunk businessmen who had seen _Pretty Woman_ and gotten the wrong idea about who was exploiting who on Hollywood Boulevard. She knew she could do more, and jumped at the chance to prove it.

 

_If you truly want to become the best, I can teach you how.  If you are willing, I can guarantee you’ll have a job that will make you richer than you’d ever dreamed.  But in return, I require one thing._

 

Gray looked at his feet; Sheena wondered if he knew how obvious his face was, or if he cared if he did. He’d give it all up, go back to square one in Sydney, if it meant getting Black Sheep back.

 

_What do I have to do?_

_Be at the top of your class. Someone else will be there, another student that you will need to outperform at every turn.  Ensure that she fails, get expelled, or anything to make certain she does not succeed._

_I’m not going to sandbag another woman because a vindictive man can’t do it himself. No deal._

_If you don’t, it will mean her certain death._

 

None of them could go back.

 

“The trade off,” Sheena continued,”Is that no one else knows who you are, no one remembers you. No one notices when you’re gone. There won’t be flowers, a marker, or memorial when it’s our time. There’s just us.  Black Sheep has been gone for a year, but we’re still here, so we should remember. And be grateful we’re here to do it.”

Jean-Paul turned to face to water with a faraway look on his face; Antonio and Mimebomb were both red-eyed.  Gray hadn’t moved from staring resolutely at the ground. There was just silence and the sound of waves hitting the dock. A few birds called over the water. Sheena hadn’t planned to say any more than that, but then-

“To Black Sheep.”  

Four stunned faces fixed themselves on Mimebomb, who shrugged and took another hit from the flask.

“She never spoke about herself,” Jean-Paul sat himself on one of the large rocks overlooking the dock and took the flask next. “I mentioned once getting into the academy was the best way I could leave _La Réunion,_ that I wanted to go to bigger and better places. She said that’s exactly why she entered the academy too. But never more than that.  I guess there are things we are never meant to know.”

“She definitely knew the island really well.” Antonio agreed. “Her Spanish was perfect, but she spoke to just about everyone in their own language. I was so nervous on the first day, but ending up in class with her, it helped. She was a good friend.”

“I didn’t come here to make friends-” Jean-Paul poorly covered _no shit_ with a fake cough; Sheena ignored him. “And that didn’t change. But she hung around when people made of stronger stuff than her washed out, I guess that’s respectable, even if what happened was inevitable.”

Gray finally raised his head.  “Black Sheep was the best out of all of us. Certainly better than _you._ Maybe if you’d spent less time hating her and more time trying to- _”_

“Oh God, Gray, spare me your sanctimonious white knight bullshit for once, ok?” He was clearly in A Mood, and as usual, Sheena was the only person willing to say the reasonable thing.  “She was totally out of her depth. Maybe not by technical skill, but in terms of experience? Being here was a _game_ in her eyes.  She had _no_ clue what she was getting into. The smartest thing she could have done was try to get out. Too bad you sent her back the first time she tried.”

Gray dove for her, arms outstretched, and it was only her quick reaction to duck that saved a full on fight. Antonio gamely tried to step between them, but Gray shoved him aside. “How can you say that? Why do you hate her so much?”

“The one I hated was _you._ ” Sheena hissed. “She was annoying but you were _an asshole._ The first thing you did was pick the smallest in the herd to prop yourself up and bolster your own ego. You think I haven’t seen your type? Please, you’re a dime a dozen. I’ve _stabbed_ better men than you with a shoe.”

“She was _my best friend.”_  Both Antonio and Jean-Paul jumped up to hold Crackle back once again.  “I did what I did to _save her life_.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to reply- _and how did that work out, Crackle?-_ but Mimebomb stepped between them pointing frantically at the horizon, the top of his wrist, and them swinging an arm as though he was pitching a ball.   

_Every first of December, she arrives right on schedule._

Joining Black Sheep’s stupid water balloon attack had been one of Sheena’s lesser attempts at getting the girl kicked out, but one of Black Sheep’s many mysteries had been the detailed knowledge she had about the workings of the academy.  Sheena had to admit, for the crazy things the faculty had made them do, it had been a nice bit of watery revenge.

_Take aim, and bring the rain._

Sheena looked at her own watch, then up at Mimebomb. Ten to noon _._ The boat was already visible in the distance. She had completely forgotten today was the hard drive delivery, but Mimebomb was around the island much more than she these days.

“We don’t have enough time.” She told him. “I don’t even know where we would even find water balloons.”

“Well,” Gray started, the fell quiet for a beat. “I brought some. It felt like a fitting tribute.”

“Me too.” Antonio confessed, holding up his backpack. “Might as well carry on the tradition.”

“We’re out in the open.” Jean-Paul complained. “We should have hidden from the start if that was your plan.”

“Actually, I have something that can help. A new piece of gear I’ve been working on.” Gray added, as he started to open his duffle bag. “It’s for multipoint full-field broadband invisibility. We can reverse the freq-”

“Blah blah blah.” Sheena interrupted him. “Too much information. No one cares. Just tell us what to do.”

Gray smiled tightly. “We need to stick this generator,” he held up a box the size of book, “on the dock, and keep the other one here. Anything in between with these markers on it,” now he pulled out a sheet of metallic stickers, “will disappear, like this.”

Gray set the two boxes down, and put a rock between them. Nothing happened. Then, he added one of the silvery sticker on each end of the rock, and in blink, it was gone.

“That’s-” _Very impressive_ , is what Sheena’s instinctive response was, but she couldn’t make herself say it out loud. “When do we get it for capers?”

Gray smiled fully this time, as though he knew what wasn’t said. “Soon as it has a proper field test.”

Exactly nine minutes later, a mountain of water balloons sat ready to be marked and launched. El Topo swam under the dock, and gave a thumbs up that the device was in place with just enough time to jump back in the water before the boat pulled alongside the pier.

Gray gave the first balloon a hearty toss, and they waiting with bated breath as it disappeared. Without warning, a small explosion of _splash!_ hit two pairs of shoes and Gray laughed madly. The rest of them wasted no time in continuing the assault, even though their laughter and noise somewhat ruined the stealthy effect.  By the time they were out of balloons, Antonio had returned to the cliff-side, along with stern-faced Dr. Bellum and Coach Brunt.

Dr. Bellum examined the small generator.  “Fascinating. What is this?”

“What in the name of all that is holy would cause five of my best operatives to act like brand new recruits who don’t know a damned thing?” Coach Brunt’s voice became more southern when she was angry.

Gray laughed oddly once again from where he lay on the ground, but it was mixed with a choking sort of sob.  “ _Black Sheep,_ of course.”

Sheena looked at him with new sympathy. _Maybe he really did care about her after all._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someday, and that day may never come - This from the Godfather. If you don't know it, you should watch it! But for the purposes used here, Ivy is basically asking if she's uknowingly indebted herself to the mob, much like Carmen and Player have been wondering about her:-)
> 
> Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship - This is the quote from Casblanaca that Gray used on Carmen in the last chapter. She's learning to make pop-culture references! It's in explained in-text there, but just wanted to explain it here in case someone wasn't familiar :-)
> 
> Sixteen graduates- So, the scene showing VILE's graduation clearly does not have forty people in it, and to the best I can see the whole room, there are only sixteen people who actually graduate as VILE operatives. That leaves a little room for interpretation- as a "vocational school" (as stated by Shadowsan), it seems reasonable that you could pass exams but not be offered a position at VILE (maybe with a memory wipe, or maybe not since no one seems to know where the academy is), as there were twenty-some people with green "pass" marks in the exams scene. Since Black Sheep doesn't have a previous non-VILE life to memory-wipe her back to if she refused to be an operative, she'd probably fall into the "leave no witnesses" camp, which I'm assuming is why Shadowsan was so hellbent on not letting her graduate. 
> 
> On a separate sidenote, this story is cross-posted to ff.net, and one of the messages I got over there asked about a playlist for this story. Is that something that is interesting to folks? I do actually have one that I listen to when I work on this story, but I never actually thought anyone would be interesting in such a thing. Am I out of the loop?:-)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay, all! Real life reared its head, and I had to take a departure to handle some family business. That being said, the announcement of Season 2 jolted me back to writing, and I will do my level best to complete this story before it launches!

_Boston, MA_

_December 1, 2018_

 

The apartment was dark and quiet when Carmen came in, huffing warm breaths into her cupped hands.  Winter in Boston was yet another thing her previous life had ill-prepared her to handle, but she’d take it over the sunniest afternoon on the Isle of Vile any day.

She’d been feeling a little uneasy as the anniversary of escape from VILE grew closer, but something about the silence of tiny flat seemed particularly...off, though Carmen couldn’t say why.  

The hum of electricity ( _Just the heater.)_

The sound of wet rubber squeaking ( _Normal_ _rush hour traffic.)_

The shallow breathing and light crunch coming from behind the cou- ( _Someone’s here!)_

Zack and Ivy weren’t supposed to be back from Zack’s final physical therapy appointment for another hour. No one else had a key, but Carmen had picked enough locks to know that didn’t mean much. She paused, body tense, and checked the distance between herself and the door.  

_“Surprise!”_

The lights flashed on as the sound came from her right, so Carmen twisted that direction as she thrust an arm out to flip one of the intruders over her shoulder.  Just before contact, Carmen froze, suddenly recognizing a pair of bright blue eyes. 

Ivy held up her hands and cleared her throat.  “I guess a surprise birthday party wasn’t the best choice.  Probably shouda seen that comin’.” 

Zack, working through a mouthful of chips, turned on the lights and held up a laptop on which Player was cackling madly. “Igh wa’st ma idah.”

“You guys…” Carmen blinked as the group bickered, slowly taking in the brightly colored balloons and slightly uneven banner hanging across the entry hall. “...Threw me a birthday party? Why?”

“Well, duh.” Player managed to calm himself long enough to answer. “It _is_ your birthday. You deserve it! And we’re pulling in a decent amount of funds these days from picking off VILE business fronts so I even splurged on your favorite fish flavored donuts.”

_“When’s your birthday?”_

_“December first.”_

_“Today’s your birthday? Wow. You really know how to party, Carmen.”_

Carmen had spent so much time thinking about her escape from the island, she’d all but forgotten that Player had used that day as her birth date.  

_It had been_ , Carmen realized with shaking hands. It _was_ the day Carmen Sandiego came to be.  This was the first time she’d ever been able to celebrate a birthday with friends. The only birthday party Carmen had ever attended was the one Sheena had demanded during her first week of class (the _first_ time around).  That her friends would give her one without even being asked...

Ivy recognized that Carmen seemed uncertain what to do or say next, and distracted them all by pulling out a long, flat box from under the couch. It was wrapped in garishly printed paper with a large red bow on top. Zack set down the laptop and ran to grab another round box from the closet. 

“You’re a hard one to shop for, Carmen.” Ivy excused. “But I think we finally hit on some pretty good stuff.”

“It was mostly my idea.” Player added with a smirk. “Unless you hate it, in which case it’s all Zack’s fault.”

“Hey!” Zack turned to the screen, betrayed. “I had nothing to do with it! Ivy picked mine out.”

Ivy glared, and Zack quickly backpedaled. “I mean, I spent a lot of time on this very thoughtful box?” He looked to Ivy and Carmen for approval, but only met with an annoyed sigh from his sister and a chuckle from Carmen, as she tried to blink the tears from her eyes.  “Um, sorry Carm. Shopping’s not my gig. I did get you a non-fish flavored cake, though.”

“I’m sure it’s wonderful. This is all…” Carmen looked around at the bright decorations and her earnest friends. “I’ve never had anything like this.”

“Get used to it!” Zack laughed. “Ivy and I go hard on our birthday. And open mine first!”

The pair lasted exactly eight seconds into Carmen’s careful reverse-engineering of the wrapping paper before calling on her to shred it;  the result was scraps of paper flying every which-way for a harried minute, as Player good-naturedly complained they were covering the camera. 

By the time he could see clearly again, Carmen held up a bright red trench coat, and Zack comically placed the matching hat, slightly askew, on her head.  

“How did you even know about this? I lost this coat the day I met the two of you!” 

“I figured if we’re going after VILE, you had to be a true Red Hat again.” Player replied, grinning as he leaned in closer to his camera. “But Ivy did pick the actual sizes and stuff. Presumably Zack did something useful, also.”

“I did the _cake!_ ” 

Carmen laughed delightedly and threw her arms around the pair, and leaned in as well.  “You guys are the best.” 

The lighthearted moment ended with a knock at the door, causing all three occupants to freeze.  Carmen turned to the laptop.

“Player,” She hissed. “Can you tell if that’s-”

“Right on time.” Player yawned.  “It’s a parcel service. Since you won’t let me be there in person, I figured the least I could do was make it easier for _you_ to get around.”

“What are you up to?” Carmen replied, as she returned with the padded envelope from the entryway. “Tell me this isn’t a plane ticket.  We already decided-”

“Just open it, will you?” Player interrupted. “What do you know about Malta?” 

“Malta?” Carmen paused as she tore open the envelope and slid out a small red book. “Island nation in the Mediterranean. Historically it’s been held by a number of different countries as a strategic naval base. Fifth most densely populated country in the world.”   

“Now it just got a little bit denser. Congrats on your new official citizenship, Red. I’ve been working on it for, like, a _year._  I can do a pretty good fake ID but to get the best of VILE, crossing international borders will be a lot easier with the real deal. ” 

Aside from hat in the middle of the ocean, it was the first thing in her life that Carmen had ever held in her hands with her name printed on it- _any name_ \- but there it was all the same: _Malta Passaport. Carmen Sandiego._

But yet, there were questions. “I’ve never even been to Malta. Where in the world did this come from?”

“Pretty sure he got it in Malta, Carm.” Ivy piped in. 

“That is correct. It’s official, I promise.  Do you remember the boat you stole from VILE?” At Carmen’s silent nod, Player continued. “I scrubbed its registration and sold it in an online auction after you landed in Tenerife. Then I used the money to sign you up for the Citizenship by Investment program in Malta. Your Christmas present is a villa in Valletta, by the way. I’m told the view is choice.”

“You told me we were _broke!”_ Carmen said with a huff, but all three of her companions could tell she was not quite so angry. “I slept in abandoned buildings for _months!”_  

“And now you know _why_ we were broke.  Happy Birthday?”  

“That had better be an _amazing_ cake.”

 

* * *

 

_Boston, MA_

_December 15, 2018_

 

“So you’re saying all these people come to these stores to buy things and then just...give them away?”  Carmen asked into her phone as she rode the escalator through Copley Place. She’d been here a few times with Ivy (well, she’d been showing Ivy how to spot targets for pick-pocketing, but she wasn’t going to tell Player that), and had never seen so many people flooding the stores. 

“To specific people. For _Christmas._ ” Player explained patiently. Carmen was still a little miffed about the boat thing, and he knew better than to try and tease her.  Still, she’d been scared and hiding from VILE this time last year, and it _was_ pretty amusing to see her experience a full commercial Christmas season for the first time.

“I _know_ what Christmas is. I had teachers.  I just don’t understand why all these people are shopping for it.” Carmen huffed. “ _Why_ are people standing in line to sit on that poor man?”

“People take a lot of photos of their kids like that. It’s a tradition. There’s a lot of that this time of year. Things like cheesy music and cookies, too.” Player added. 

_Tradition is one thing,_ Carmen thought as she recalled her water balloon expertise while ducking through a crowd of girls standing in line for...something, _but this is ridiculous.  “_ And this happens every December?”

“Earlier and earlier every year.” Player affirmed cheerily. This was why he did all his shopping online.  

Carmen eyed the bulging paper sacks and stacked packages the hordes of shoppers were carrying out of stores. She’d done plenty of sparring, but this very nearly the most violent thing she’d ever seen.  “And I’m supposed to join this crowd to get things for you and Ivy and Zack?”

Player chuckled.  “Well you don’t _have_ too. It’s just a way to celebrate. And get good gifts in return.”  

“Life was a lot easier when I could just steal things.”

“Some people make things, or do something nice.” Player offered.  “It’s really supposed to be a way to show you care about someone.  I guess you didn’t have any occasion to give presents in crime school, huh?”

Carmen was silent for a long moment. She’d eaten most of her one attempt to get Sheena a birthday present, but still...

“Maybe once or twice.”

 

* * *

 

_VILE Academy, Isle of Vile_

_September, 2016_

When she’d first plead her case for becoming a student, her thoughts had mostly been about what came at the end of the year: graduation, capers, and _freedom._

But day by day Black Sheep found that having _friends_ was turning out to be a lot more of a bonus than she’d anticipated.  It wasn’t just that, for once, she was able to experience things as part of a group, but that things were just so much _better_ that way. 

Normally a demonstration of one of Dr. Bellum’s new creations was fairly straightforward, if a bit worrisome for the potential explosions.  But watching others see it for the first time made her feel like it was new and incredible. 

It was only a short blast, but the warmth of Gray’s eyes lighting up lasted much longer on her skin.

“You like it?”  

“Like it? More like love it!”

“I’ll steal it for you later.”

Black Sheep had gotten ahold of just about everything on the island at least once for one reason or another- from uniform belts to library books to _secret cellphones_.  So when the Crackle Rod came out in their second week of class, there was no point in pretending that she had any resistance to stealing it for him.  Gray had looked so thrilled at the idea, and something inside Black Sheep’s chest thumped heavily at his expression. 

This was the sort of thing friends did for each other, right?

It was only a matter of _when_ and _how._ A theft from Maelstrom or Cleo’s classroom would be one thing, as most of the booby-traps and security were fairly standard and unlikely to be dangerous, but everyone knew Dr. Bellum’s lab had a number of _experimental_ features. 

 

***

 

“Good afternoon, Dr. Bellum.” Black Sheep fell into step next to her professor. “I was wondering if you need any help in the lab after class today?”

“Oh? Is this some new hobby of yours?” Dr. Bellum slowed her step a bit, but otherwise didn’t react except to lift an eyebrow. 

“You could say that.” Black Sheep cringed; she’d picked up stealth readily enough, but Cleo’s lessons on undercover work weren’t taking quite so quickly. She knew her voice sounded nervous.  “I’ve been thinking that I really need to know more about your area of expertise. In case I...ever need it. On a caper?” 

At this, Dr. Bellum did pause. The short woman turned to face Black Sheep with a sigh. “Take my advice, child.  No good comes from trying to change yourself for a man.” 

Dr. Bellum continued walking, leaving a stunned Black Sheep a few paces behind. 

“Wait, what?” Black Sheep waved her hands as she clarified. “I’m not trying to- I mean, what I meant to say is-”

“That your newly discovered interest in my lab has nothing to do with who may or may not also be there?” 

“No! I just thought I could help you check for...loose cables?”

Dr. Bellum simply shook her head and walked away.  Black Sheep trudged off to the library to make another plan.

 

***

“What your opponent catches is every bit as important as what they miss,” Shadowsan concluded his lecture the next day.  “A handshake, a sound, a gesture in broad daylight, can be as effective as any shadow.” 

He lifted an elegant sword off the wall, and drew it from the case while pacing from the front to the back of the room. 

“You need not leave no trace to have an action escape notice,” At this, he glared at Black Sheep. “So long as you remain in _control_.” 

Sheena smirked, until a small mirrored compact landed in her lap; the one she carried every day.  Shadowsan continued to toss half a dozen other items around the room to the surprised gasps of the affected students.  “ _You are dismissed._ ” 

Black Sheep grinned. Now _that_ was a theft. She hoped she’d be as quick one day.

“I guess it must be hard to manage a class, _”_ Sheena began as they filed out of the room. “When _some_ of the students are so _immature.”_

“Yeah,” Black Sheep responded tightly from behind her. ”But I’m sure you’ll grow out of that. Maybe. A bit.” 

Sheena took the bait and snorted indelicately. “How like you.  I could lift anything off of you and you’d never know.”

_Next time_ , she placated her burning ego, _next time she runs her mouth it’s on._ Black Sheep would demand to challenge Sheena directly eventually, but the whole point of today’s lesson was misdirection.  She remembered Gray’s smile looking at the Crackle Rod, and reined herself in.  This could work to her advantage.

“If I’m as bad as you say, why would you even brag about that?” Black Sheep countered. “Maybe you should shut your mouth until you can do better.”

“I can steal anything on this island. _From_ anyone on the island.” 

“Oh, come off it, Sheena.” Black Sheep taunted. ”You got your ass handed to you by a teacher.  Don’t get so bent out of shape. They’re better than all of us.”

“ _Not me._ ” Sheena insisted. 

_Too easy. You’re about to get caught, Sheena._ Shadowsan’s class was definitely becoming Black Sheep’s favorite.  “You say that like you could steal from the faculty.” 

Both girls grinned maliciously. 

 

***

_NEE-eu NEE-eu NEE-eu NEE-eu POOF._

The blaring alarm from Dr. Bellum’s lab woke most of the students on the island, save for the two that were already long out of bed. 

The first was Sheena, who was standing in the middle of the lab with a disappointed looking Coach Brunt and somewhat gleeful Dr. Bellum, all while covered head-to-toe in stiff, bright pink foam. “PRESSURE SWITCHES, MY DEAR GIRL.” the stout doctor announced over the blaring noise. “IF YOU NEED MORE THAN HALF A SECOND YOU NEED A BETTER PLAN.”

The second was Black Sheep, who very much lamented not bringing the phone she wasn’t supposed to have to take a photo that she’d never be able to share from her position just around the corner.

“I’LL GO RESET THE SYSTEM. _”_ Coach Brunt shouted as the group turned to the hall.

The control room was by the helipad, which meant she had about thirty seconds before Coach Brunt would re-arm the system, but that was more than enough time. Careful to avoid the splotches of sticky foam on the floor, Black Sheep easily slipped behind the distracted group as the lab doors hissed shut behind them. 

_Thirty seconds…_

The room itself was a mess. Aside from the din of the alarm, bright flashing lights illuminated a clear Sheena-shaped foam outline on the wall, and the chisel Dr. Bellum had used to free Sheena’s feet from lay nearby. She’d not been subtle in her raid, and several tables had been messily tossed. 

_No wonder she got caught._ Black Sheep sighed. Nonetheless, there lay her goal, neatly sitting in a bracket on the wall. 

_Twenty seconds…_

The pressure switches would definitely reactivate if the system came back on, but Black Sheep was able to lift up the Crackle Rod cleanly, checking for any additional cables or tracking devices.  The click of the pressure switch was impossible to hear under the siren, but it had already been triggered; no one would know it was a second alarm. 

_Ten seconds..._

She jumped over another puddle of hardened foam, not willing to take a chance that it might be able to snag a shoe, and rolled her body into the door, tucking the rod securely into her chest.  It was heavy, and with only a manual push working, the door barely cracked open under her weight. But open it did, and Black Sheep ducked into the hallway just as the alarm was silenced and the tell-tale hiss of the lock proved the security was reengaged. 

She grinned at her trophy. _Mission Accomplished._

 

***

She was very nearly shaking with some bundle of nerves and joy the next day.  Dr. Bellum had given her a long, appraising look while lamenting the theft of the Crackle Rod during class, but her training held firm and Black Sheep was positive she hadn’t outed herself.

“Honestly, I’m disappointed.” Dr. Bellum sighed to Gray, as he left class with Black Sheep alongside. “I had higher hopes for you, young man.”

“I didn’t take it professor, I swear!” Gray’s denial was quick and sincere; he was clearly affronted by the disappointment from his favorite teacher. “I wanted the chance to work on it.”

“I know,” the instructor replied calmly. “You’ll have to be more proactive in the future.” 

But then she turned to Black Sheep, who had been trying to edge silently out of the room. “Extra credit for you if you turn it in. Based on your last exam score, you could use it.”

Black Sheep shook her head as she ducked through the doors, laughing. “Not a chance!” 

Gray just laughed as he jogged to catch her in the hall. “What was that about?”

“Come with me.” 

***

“Thank you, Black Sheep.” Gray said sincerely, and she couldn’t help but light up. “This is the best present I’ve ever gotten. Not just the rod, but all the trouble you went to get it. I’ll return the favor someday, I promise.”

“Sure, Gray,” She teased him with a wink. “I want one of those swords from Shadowsan’s room.”

Gray laughed. The sound made Black Sheep feel warm. 

“You’d have a better chance of getting one of those off of him than me.” He complained lightly, throwing an arm around her shoulders and leaning against her.

Black Sheep huffed comically as she tilted her head to lean against Gray’s. “I’m pretty sure I’d need to be _actually_ invisible to get that one past him.”

He hummed in response.  “I’ll see what I can do.” 

“You do that. In the meantime, you’d better put this to good use or I might try to steal it back.”

Gray smiled down at her. “I don’t think I would stand a chance against you.” 

 

 

* * *

 

_Valletta, Malta_

_December 24, 2018_

 

“I gotta hand it to you, Carm.” Zack admitted as he stepped into the townhouse laden with groceries. “This place is killer. I can’t wait to hit the beach.” 

Carmen pulled off the hat she’d been using to ward off the drizzling rain, but couldn’t disagree.  Malta was certainly beautiful, probably more so in summer, but it meant more than that to her.  Where else in the world could she be known only as Carmen Sandiego? 

“It’ll do as a home base.” She glanced around the sparse furnishings.  Most people would think it meager, but with one notable exception, she’d never been one for knick-knacks. More importantly, it was _home._ She could be herself, not just some name borrowed from a fake ID.  Maybe she’d buy some flowers next time they went into the market. _Carmen Sandiego_ didn’t have to run anymore. 

“ _And_ it has a kitchen, which is more than I can say for the hotplate and cooler we had in Boston.”  Ivy added. 

“Everybody stand back, you’re getting _Christmas dinner à la Zack.”_

“So, mac n’ cheese and a visit from the Fire Department then?” Player’s chimed in over the speaker in the living room.  While Zack and Ivy anxiously awaited beach weather and Carmen dreamed of nesting, Player’s favorite thing about their new base was the consistency of wifi, and he’d wasted no time shipping in a full complement of laptops and devices with specific instructions about where they ought to be placed.

“His mac is actually pretty good.” Carmen responded with a smile. “We weren’t expecting to hear from you until morning. You opened your Christmas present early, didn’t you?”

Player grinned on the small screen and pointed to his head. “Reminds me of the good ol’ days.” 

Carmen had found holiday shopping in Boston to be oddly fun once she’d embraced the competitive mindset, and the resulting Red Sox hat seemed like the perfect thing for her very first _red hat_ companion. “Speaking of the old days, I dropped in to deliver _your_ throwback Christmas present.” 

Carmen gestured around her. “You already got me a villa.” 

“With money from the boat you stole. Consider it a present for me, then. I’m about to brag on some of my _finest_ work. Hacking your old phone used to be the highlight of my mad skills, but this is _so_ much better.” Player teased. “Or should I say, it’s _VILE._ ”

“ _You_ _did it!”_  Carmen gasped. “ _You accessed the hard drive?”_

“Bingo.” Player replied cheerily. “At least some of it. There’s not much that I confirm is criminal yet, but it’s _chock full_ of info we can use to shake the hornet’s nest. I already sent some search crawlers out online for a few other names in their ledger.”   

“Won’t that set off red flags on their side?” Carmen was always worried for Player, her oldest friend and the one she was least able to protect, but she would give a _lot_ to see the look on Shadowsan’s face if he found out she was coming for them. 

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” Player replied breezily. “But I think it will actually take some time to get on their radar. They won’t know who is looking or why. It looks like access to their businesses and accounts are ad hoc; that’s probably why they do the big download offline every year.  And since even _I_ don’t really know what to look for yet, the searches are messy until I crack the whole thing.”

“Sounds inefficient.”

“I prefer _mysterious_.”

Carmen laughed. “You’ve earned the right to call it what you want. But you didn’t need to call in the middle of your night for that.”

“I just opened up _our_ Christmas present: a possible location for _Girl with the Red Hat._ One of the entries in the drive’s ledger is an account for another VILE business front: an art gallery in Cairo.”

“Haber and that Vermeer artist fled to Zurich with the painting.” Carmen mused. “But they could have gotten anywhere in the world from there. Cairo is well-known for its antiquities trade and it’s a huge metropolitan area; 15th largest in the world.”  

“Don’t forget it’s major historical sites like the Pyramids of Giza or the Coptic Museum. With all the international acclaim and visitors, it’s not a bad place to hide. I’m no accountant, but the gallery seems order a lot of supplies- too much more than what it recorded in sales.  There is a serious amount of blue pigment there, mostly cobalt and Prussian blue.” 

“Vermeer did a lot of work in blue.  If I were practicing forgeries, I’d order a ton too.”

“Just what I’m thinking, Red. Our first mission together was a bust.” Player agreed. “How would you feel about a little revenge?”

Ivy chose this moment to lean into the living room holding a bowl of macaroni. 

“Carm? You want some?” 

“Have to pass Ivy. I’ve got a trip to plan.”

 

* * *

 

_Cairo, Egypt_

_February 4, 2019_

 

_“_ I guess VILE is really living in _de_ nial these days, huh?”

“You know, Player, just because Zack isn’t here doesn’t mean you need to fill in the bad joke gap.” 

The line was silent but Carmen _knew_ what Player was up to. “Sorry, Carm. But they really do need to sort out their visa papers before we start globe-trotting more than necessary. I didn’t want you to get lonely.” 

Carmen looked out over Nile River from her hotel room balcony and sighed. The view was outstanding, all puns aside. Too bad she was in no mood to enjoy it. She lifted a pair of binoculars to peer across the river, carefully zooming on the Hossam Studio and Gallery.  “Say what you really mean to say, please.”

“You had the dream about VILE again last night.” Player paused. “Been awhile. Maybe since you left DC.” 

“It’s happened a time or two since,” Carmen offered. “I should have told you, but they weren’t a big deal.  This one was rough.”

“Going on offense must bring up bad memories. I get it. If it’s any consolation, the single dollar you _didn’t_ get is chump change compared to what you’ve already stolen from them. And we’re going nowhere but up. ”  

“Speaking of up, the gallery is closed. Looks like it’s time to put my new wings to the test. Hope they work.”

“They’ll work. Just because I don’t engineer gadgets myself doesn’t mean I don’t know how to scour the dark web for the best of those who do. You’d be surprised how many people are willing to build a collapsible hang glider for the right price.”

Much to Carmen’s delight, the glider worked like a charm, and sailed over the river and landed gracefully on the roof of the gallery in far too short a time. _Definitely have to try that again soon._  “So far so good, Player.” 

There were two security cameras angled at the door, but Carmen avoided them altogether by dropping to the second story window from the roof.  She made quick work of the lock, and slipped inside the studio.  As expected, it was messy and smelled of paint. A half-finished canvas and a paint-splattered laptop sat on a table. “I’m about to plug you in.” Carmen told Player as she turned it on and stuck in a small USB stick. “This is definitely part of the forgery scheme.  I’ll go check out the lower level.”

“Gotcha.” Player was back to all business. “Feeding the official blueprints to your phone now.”

The small diagrams told Carmen that there should be two large viewing galleries, plus two offices on the lower level, but after a quick glimpse yielded no signs of Vermeer’s- fake or otherwise- for sale, she couldn’t seem to locate the second office.  

Carmen tapped a few spots on the wall behind the sales desk just as Player came back in her ear. _Hollow. Hidden rooms can’t mean anything good._

“This keeps getting _weirder and weirder.”_ He started. Carmen moved a few hanging paintings aside, and pressed on the decorative chair rail, looking for a switch.  “I’ve got their most recent records and I don’t even know what to think.”

“It’s VILE you’re talking about. I don’t think there’s anything that could surprise me.” She pushed a large landscape painting to the side to reveal a flat black button. “ _Bingo.”_  

“You found something?” Player asked. A piece of the wall hissed and lifted off the floor trim; Carmen was able to easily swing it open. The room was small and every bit as messy as the studio above, but here Carmen unquestionably recognized an in-progress copy of _The Geographer._ Carmen turned her attention to the safe in the corner and set to work on it.

“Another forgery. Give a heads up to the _Städelsches Kunstinstitut_ museum.” She answered distractedly. “Who knows what’s in the safe. You?”

“They’re sending blue to China.” 

Carmen tilted her head and blinked in confusion. “Come again?”

“I told you it was weird. All those blue pigments they’ve been ordering? Some of it _is_ being used here, but almost all of it is getting repackaged and shipped to a medical office in Shanghai.” 

“I... don’t know what to do with that information, honestly.” Carmen pulled on the safe handle, but it didn’t budge. She blew out a frustrated breath.  “Another forging operation?”

“Maybe. It’s a lot of extra work when they already have one here, though.  What was in the safe?”

“No luck so far. Time to try something else.” She stuck a hand into coat pocket and pulled out a small black box. The trigger device was one of the gadgets she’d lifted from Crackle’s apartment a few months earlier, and Carmen had a hunch it was exactly what she needed. 

She placed the device on the side of the safe, and it hummed to life. A few seconds later, the screen turned bright green and the box gave a distinct hiss and the latch loosened.  “Nothing like turning VILE’s work against them.”

“I have hand it to Crackle, one nerd to another, that’s a great method for breaking a safe. Even if it’s Cleo’s.”   

“Mmm.” Carmen hummed distractedly “Takes one VILE creep to know one, I guess.” 

“You’re gonna tell me what’s up with you and him someday, right?”

“Someday.” 

"It's sounds more and more ominous every time this comes up. I'm adding _Mr. and Mrs. Smith_ to the list." Carmen didn’t have time to respond, as the door to the safe sprang open, and she peered inside. Several stacks of Egyptian pounds, and two envelopes: one with a logo from _Credit Suisse_ and another with a return address for Poitiers.  

She swept it all into her duffel bag and made her way back to the roof. “I emptied the safe. Did you shut them down on your side?”

“VILE just had 18 million pounds go up in smoke. If we’re going to be millionaires, we should probably get an accountant.”

“I’ll figure something out.” Carmen struck a match from her coat, and tossed it inside the open studio window. It wouldn't take long to catch the canvas, and then the acetone. A lot more than the bank accounts would go _up in smoke._  

The roof of the gallery gave her just enough lift to cross the river by hang glider once again, but she looked longingly up the side of her hotel from street level now. “Any chance your dark web has someone who can make me a grappling hook?” 

“Sure. Can I get a drone too?”

“Well, we _are_ millionaires now.”

 Carmen made to back to her balcony just in time to watch the fire brigade arrive, but the fire was too hot to out quickly, and the building was a smoldering pile of rubble before much could be done about it. She was about trundle off to bed, hopeful to sleep on a job well done when her phoned chimed with a text from Player.

[Hope you sleep better tonight. I cracked open another entry in ledger: A bank account at _Credit Suisse_ in Zurich _._ ]

 

* * *

 

_Zurich, Switzerland_

_March 13, 2019_

 

_Paradelplatz_ wasn’t as bustling in winter as would be in a few months, and they had little trouble finding a table in a coffee shop off the square, but Carmen knew VILE could have eyes or ears on any location.

“Is everyone clear on what they’re supposed to do?” Carmen asked quietly. She received three near-identical groans in response. 

“Carm, we’ve been going over this for a month. We’ve been to Zurich _three_ times since just to stake out the bank. Ivy plants the bug. I cause trouble. You steal the box. Player drains the account. We’re good.” Zack added. He’d been itching for something more to do than the cooking for weeks.

“I know. It’s just, this is for keeps this time.” Carmen’s voice was serious, despite the eye rolling she got in return. “This isn’t petty theft anymore. You’ll literally be international felons after this.”

“You’re already an international felon.” Player’s voice reminded from the tiny speakerphone. “You stole a boat, broke into an airport, crossed _several_ international borders and tried to rob the National Gallery of Art.” 

Carmen waved a hand as if to physically dismiss Player’s list. “That was all for a good cause.”

“So is this,” Ivy exhaled. “We’re _robbing a Swiss bank._ That is _so_ bad-ass.” 

“ _I’m_ robbing a Swiss bank.” Carmen corrected. “You’re the distraction.  If you see any sign of Dash Haber or anyone suspicious, you bail straightaway ok?”  

Carmen was glad for her long coat as they stepped back out into the cold. The bright red wasn’t subtle, but that was hardly the point right now that they meant to stir up VILE.  She paused by the tram station just outside the bank, watching Ivy and Zack walk ahead of her while slipping in her earpiece.  If there were ever a pair that could draw the eyes of security, it would be them.

_What your opponent catches is every bit as important as what they miss._

“I’ve got the wonder twins inside on the security feed now.” Player was all business, and it helped settle Carmen’s nerves. “Showtime, Red.” 

Carmen walked slowly into the bank, deliberately ignoring Zack’s increasingly loud complaints about getting service. Rather than waste time, she approached one of service advisers.

_“Grüezi.”_ She pulled out a piece of paper with the account and box number Player had pulled from the hard drive. “I have an appointment to see my safe deposit box.”

“Of course.” The older women looked at the paper and back at the growing commotion behind Carmen without emotion. “I’ll just need to verify your identity on the account. Is your key held with us?” 

“No.” Carmen smiled reassuringly, holding up a gold key. She staked out the bank for nearly ten hours on her second trip to Zurich to make sure she knew what they looked like.  “We prefer to keep them ourselves.”

“I’ll just need to verify you are on the account, Miss-”  Commotion erupted from the main lobby, as three uniformed security officers ran past Carmen. Zack was shouting as he made a show of pulling Ivy off the teller’s desk, where she was laid out smashing buttons on a computer. Carmen nearly blushed: she didn’t know he knew that kind of profanity in _English,_ much less German.

“That’s your cue. Zack wanted to really sell it, so I Googled a few choice phrases,” Player offered with a laugh. “Ivy got my USB into the computer, but I can only edit the account while it’s there. I’ll be in the account in four minutes, and then you’ll have a tight window to prove who you are. If someone pulls it out, we’re toast.” 

“I’m sorry.” Carmen interrupted the service agent, who had been alternately waiting on her ID and trying to get a view of Ivy’s tantrum. “Is there somewhere quieter for this? It’s very upsetting and I’d like to finish as quickly as possible.”

The women led Carmen through two sets of double doors into large room with several vault boxes of various sizes. “I’m happy to retrieve your box as soon as you verify you are the account holder and name. You can use the examination room to open it privately with your key.”

Carmen presented the account number and her passport with a flash of pride, and the adviser quickly nodded at her tablet and pulled a medium-sized box out of the wall bank. Carmen eyed it carefully; if _Girl with the Red Hat_ was inside, it would be a tight fit. Still, maybe that was the point. 

The examination room was nearly silent, as the bank employee left after explaining that Carmen could take all the time she needed, but would have to use the intercom to buzz for an escort out.  

She tossed her fake key to the side, and took a seat at the table while pulling out two lock picks. It was a few moment’s work until the tumblers clicked into place, and Carmen felt her heartbeat race as she twisted the barrel.

Nothing. 

“I told you.” Carmen teased into her earpiece. “No way Cleo would settle for a run-of-the-mill lock, even a Swiss Bank.”  

“I didn’t doubt you.” Player chimed in. Carmen pulled out the safe trigger, and it set to work in seconds.  “FYI, Zack and Ivy just got carted off by the KZ. You sure want me to clear them? Might be nice to have a few days of peace and quiet.”

“I hate to make the _kantonspolizei_ deal with them instead. It’s not the red hat way.”   The trigger finally turned green, and Carmen went back to picking the regular lock.

“Don’t leave me in the dark, Red.” Player demanded. “Did the girl with the red hat find _Girl with the Red Hat_?” 

 Several thick stacks of paper bills with a purple _500_ stamped across thumped onto the table as Carmen tilted it over. A thin manila envelope slipped out last. “It’s all cash.” she said, confused. “A _lot_ of cash. Maybe around two million euros. No painting.”

“A cool 20 million was sitting in the bank account too. Maybe they already sold it?” Player mused. ”It has been a few months.” 

“ _Or_ they still owe payment to someone.” Carmen suggested. “They wouldn't have gone to the trouble of recruiting that guy for a quick job.”

“Either way, they’ll be plenty pissed when the funds go missing. It’s a strike at them even if it’s not exactly what we wanted.” 

_White collar crime is where the real money is,_ Cookie Booker had told her. _She was right._

Carmen wasted no time in packing the cash into her bag, and cleaning up the table as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened before hitting the buzzer near the door. 

Two uniformed employees arrived in minutes; one re-locked the safe deposit box into the vault, and second politely escorted out of the bank, as though nothing was amiss. No sign if Zack and Ivy had done anything more damaging than cause a scene or if anyone here worked for VILE.  

“I hope that issue in the lobby was resolved easily. “ She tested. “It seemed unusual.” 

He escort shrugged, reticent. “We see many kinds of issues. The staff is prepared to maintain security.” 

“That’s not an easy task.” Carmen batted her eyes and smiled in an effort to lower his guard. He blushed. “I can’t imagine what would cause someone to be so upset.” 

“It’s not my business, of course.” He whispered while glancing around. “But her brother came to collect and mentioned something about her health. The _Kinderspital Zurich_ has a fundraiser tonight, so perhaps she was reacting to that. I’m sure the _kantonspolizei_ will assist. It was not any issue of much significance to us.” 

“Of course…That's why I’m here, actually.” Carmen breathed quickly. “I wanted to make my donation in person and though it best to visit the bank first.”

The officer nodded and continued to walk, not apparently interested in further details. 

Carmen nodded and smiled at her adviser as she left.  

“Player, I know what I want to do with the money. Also, what’s to going rate for a new hospital wing?” 

 

* * *

 

_VILE Academy, Isle of Vile_

_April 2, 2019_

 

Countess Cleo rarely needed to raise her voice, and this was no exception. Nonetheless, her sharp pronunciation and dark eyes clearly communicated that her anger was dangerous. 

“I am not interested in a game of _guess who,_ Professor, I want to know _how_ my personal gallery was _defiled_.  I was very unhappy to visit and find it _ash._ ”  

“Of course I understand your frustration, Countess.” Professor Maelstrom turn to his colleagues as his presentation concluded. “But we must lay blame solely on the person responsible. It _would_ be unwise to allow this person to go unencumbered. But if I may, I’d rather not make an enemy where we may make allies.” 

“It seems that you need a better bank account, rather than continue these petty arguments.”  Shadowsan contibuted. A few million euros and a bit of paint wasn’t a small amount, but certainly not worth launching an international manhunt an organization so large. “I’ve no patience to indulge another one of your poor choices in students, Gunnar.” 

Professor Maelstrom sighed. “I can see I’m going to have to handle this alone. I must admit, the lack of vision from this group is very disappointing.” 

“What’s dissapointin’ is that we had to face another year with your _last interestin’_ case. Paper Star still gives me the heebie jeebies.”  Coach Brunt stated as the faculty began to exit the room. 

Professor Maelstrom did not move to leave as his colleagues did. Instead, he nodded to Dr. Bellum, who opened one of her many screens to show Crackle on the other end of a video chat. 

“Mr. Crackle. It’s been some time.  Congratulations on your recent work at the New Tretyakov Gallery. Beautifully done.” 

The professor opened the same set of photos he’d just shared with the rest of the faculty.  Three images, all featuring a figure in a long red coat, appeared before him. “We recently had an issue with one of our holdings in Cairo, and again with a Swiss bank account. Someone able to break in and remove our property.”  

“Dr. Bellum told me. She and I built the locks that secure those safes, Professor.” Crackle answered. “It’s not exactly _open sesame_ to get inside. No run of the mill lockpick would do the trick. You have to have the key.” 

“And yet,” sighed Maelstrom. “Here we are.”

“The thief gave the name _Carmen Sandiego_ to an employee in Zurich.” Dr. Bellum spoke up. “ This woman,” she gestured to the screen, “appeared in several nearby locations on different days, but always before the thefts, always wearing the coat. I must assume it’s related.”

Crackle nodded. “No amount of visual recon would get you into one of our deposit boxes. I assume you want me to figure out her method?” 

Dr. Bellum closed the photos. “I want you to find _Carmen Sandigeo._ If she really is talented enough to have gotten past your security, recruit her to our side. If she proves to be more nuisance than she’s worth, eliminate her.” 

“Recruitment isn’t exactly my training,” Crackle protested, as dark look filled his face. “I don’t have a great history convincing people to stay.” 

“Handsome young man such as yourself, I’m sure you’ll find a way.” Professor Maelstrom finished. “Find the red woman. Whatever it may take.” 

Crackle nodded tightly. “You got it. She doesn’t stand a chance.”

The screen went black.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Malta/Passport- We briefly see (at least one version of) Carmen’s passport in The Fishy Doubloon Caper, and it’s a vague match for the passport of Malta (that is, red with a coat of arms style insignia on it). There are several other countries that it could match, but Malta also has an investment program that makes citizenship fairly straightforward for those who can put up the money, making it a good choice for our heroine:-) That being said, there is also a physical residency requirement (183 days) for this citizenship program that I’m timing but also hand-waving here.
> 
> Crackle Rod- it’s mentioned in the show’s novel that Black Sheep is the one that stole the Crackle Rod for Gray, and she offers to do so pretty close to the beginning of their training year. In the show, he has it by the time they get codenames, which happens in December (during detention after Cookie Booker’s visit), so I can only imagine that theft actually occurred sometime in the first part of the year, and it couldn’t have been one of the slickest, as she hasn't had that much training yet.
> 
> Cobalt and Prussian Blue- Vermeer actually used ultramarine more than cobalt, but some of his paintings do employ pigments made from cobalt-colored glass (called smalt). Player is a hacker, not an art history student and that’s all I can say on this until the next chapter! :-)
> 
> Only one more chapter to go!


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